Zenith
by Majesta Moniet
Summary: A simple choice altered. A love given room to grow. As weeks without the Cullens' return stretch by, Bella's going to discover that vampires and werewolves aren't the only things that go bump in the night. NM AU. J/B/E
1. Crutch

**Full Summary:** At a pivotal moment in New Moon, a simple choice alters the course of Bella's future, and she is forced to endure several more weeks before Edward's eventual return to Forks. Victoria, a pack of young werewolves, and the blossoming of an undeniable bond become the least of Bella's concerns as she undergoes her own supernatural transformation. It turns out vampires and werewolves aren't the only things that go bump in the night.

This story picks up shortly after Bella's jump off the cliff when Jacob is dropping her off at her house, and Bella is internally debating the morality of attempting to love Jacob. From there, things take on a different course than the novel.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight or profit from the use of its content. Stephanie Meyer is its proper owner.

**Beta:** latetolove

**Zenith**

_Chapter One - Crutch_

* * *

Jake pressed his warm cheek against the top of my hair.

If I turned my face to the side—if I pressed my lips against his bare shoulder…I knew without any doubt exactly what would follow. It would be very easy. There would be no need for explanations tonight.

But could I do it? Could I betray my absent heart to save my pathetic life?

Butterflies assaulted my stomach as I thought about turning my head.

And then, as clearly as if I were in immediate danger, Edward's velvet voice whispered in my ear.

"Be happy," he told me.

(_New Moon_, Page 376)

* * *

Happiness, complete happiness, without Edward was an alien concept to me, something practically unfathomable. But the voice was so earnest, as if it sincerely believed me capable of once again attaining such a status of bliss as happiness. I doubted it.

Of course if there were some small chance that the gaping hole in me would one day be filled—or at least scabbed over—then Jacob Black would no doubt be the cause of it.

So I pushed any indecision aside and mechanically turned my head to brush my lips against the dark skin of his shoulder, only allowing my mouth to linger for a moment longer than what could be considered chaste. I prayed the gesture came off with nonchalance rather than the uncertainty that went into making it.

Jake jolted slightly in surprise, and I kept my eyes pointedly on the door handle as I clambered out of the truck. "Don't stay out too late, Jake. You need sleep as much as I do."

He must have recovered from the sort-of kiss, because his amused snort didn't sound forced. "I'm not the one who nearly drowned."

"You're right. Hunting down a psychotically evasive vampire at all hours of the night is so much less taxing."

The thud of a rusty door stiffly closing was the only sound betraying Jacob's pursuit, his steps noiseless as we walked to my front door. But before I could unlock the knob, Jacob's arms were around me, pulling my back against his warm chest, and I allowed my self to briefly enjoy the security I felt there. "I'll be around," he said lightly, "so don't think you'll get away with anything too risky."

Great. Now I had Jacob of all people questioning my responsibility. "I know, I know. No playing with matches and no running with scissors."

His smile was discernible through my hair. "Actually I was thinking more along the lines of no base jumping and no steak knife juggling."

"If you insist."

Chilly Forks air whipped across the back of my now exposed neck as Jacob brushed aside my curtain of hair. "Bella…" His voice, soft and questioning, sent a shiver though me that couldn't be attributed to the day's temperature.

And then his lips were on my skin, first at the base of my neck where my spine began, then up to my hairline, and finally just beneath my ear.

I squished my initial reaction. I didn't pull away or tell him to knock it off. I simply attempted to relax, forcing myself to recall the pleading voice that just moments before had pleaded for my happiness.

A calming breath helped to expel some of the tension from my shoulders. Jacob seemed to be conscience of the effort I was making and allowed himself a small sigh of contentment that warmed my ear. "I'll see you later, Bells. Take care of Charlie."

And he was gone.

I numbly walked into the house and waited for the guilt to consume me. I could go for a good dose of guilt right now. Lord knows I deserved it. How utterly selfish of me to encourage my best friend when I knew my own heart was too battle worn to reciprocate.

But I _wanted_ to be happy sobadly…and Jacob, the sun in my rainstorm of a life, was just as eager to fulfill that desire. It was as if everyone else in Forks was under the impression that I enjoyed being miserable, that I acted like a zombie because I didn't want to make the effort to get better. In actuality it wasn't that I lacked the motivation, just the means. And Jacob recognized that.

He was so willing to be my crutch, and I shamelessly took advantage.

Allowing myself to groan in despair, I set to work preparing Charlie's dinner. Who knew what state he'd be in when he got home from the hospital after talking with Sue? I didn't want him to have to worry about anything when he got home, as I was sure Harry's funeral arrangements would be distracting enough.

Just as I popped my own small piece of refrigerated casserole in the microwave, the phone rang, disrupting the unusually oppressive silence of the near-empty house.

Pressing the start button with one hand, I reached for the phone with the other "Hello?"

"…"

I frowned at the lack of response. "Hello? Is anybody…"

"Bella?"

The small, tentative voice struck me dumb, and my fingers constricted tightly around the receiver. "Alice," I breathed warily. I was losing it. I had to be. There was no way…

"You're okay?" The statement sounded more like a question, and it was odd to hear that familiar musical voice sound so uncertain.

No I wasn't okay, not at all. "I…"

Her voice was briefly muffled, and I pictured her turning away from the phone towards someone else in the room as she repeated, "She's okay." My traitorous mind immediately imagined it was Edward, and I felt pressure building behind my eyes.

"Alice…" My voice was pleading though I wasn't certain what for. Anything, I realized after a moment of panic. She could tell me anything and it would satisfy me. I just didn't want her to leave, not again.

"Bella, you haven't jumped off any cliffs lately, have you?"

The question along with Alice's concerned yet aggravated tone was unexpected, and I struggled to form a coherent response. "Cliffs…oh, well…" I hadn't seen or talked to Alice in months, and she calls to ask about this? "I was _cliff diving_ earlier today."

"Cliff diving." Alice's voice was flat as she repeated the phrase, and immediately I knew I must have sounded defensive and, it turn, guilty of whatever it was she was attempting to accuse me.

"Yes," I said weakly.

There was a drawn out sigh on the other end. "That still doesn't explain why…" She was clearly talking to herself. "Ugh. This is all so very maddening." There was a long pause and I knew what was coming.

"No," I murmured so quietly I wondered if she'd even heard me.

"I have to go Bella. I really shouldn't have called, but now I'm glad that I did. It saved me a plane trip." I could tell that wasn't the real reason behind her relief.

"No."

The calm sincerity in her voice wavered and became reluctant. "Goodbye, Bella. It was nice to hear your voice again."

"NO!" My vehemence was wasted on the quiet click of the line going dead.

I couldn't be certain how long I stood there completely motionless as I clutched the phone to me ear, silently willing for the melodic voice to come back. But by the time I was able to regain enough control of my body to move my feet and lower my hand to place the receiver back in it's cradle, my reheated dinner was no longer warm.

But that was okay because my appetite was overtaken by a sudden need to lie down and die.

* * *

I must have fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for Charlie to get back home, because when I opened my eyes it was to the sight of Charlie standing in the kitchen mindlessly staring at an unopened box of cereal.

Guilt immediately began to bubble inside of me.

I hadn't been awake to console him when he came in last night. One of his best friends was dead, gone, never to return, and I couldn't even be bothered to stay awake long enough to make sure he was okay.

Blurry-eyed and stiff, I rose from couch and crossed the room to give him a hug. "I'm so sorry, Dad," I murmured. "I know how close you were to him."

He exhaled heavily and returned my embrace. "I'm not the one to be worrying about, Bells. Leah and Seth…they're just kids."

A shudder traveled down my spine at the mention of Harry's two children, Leah, who was my age, and Seth, who was a few years younger. Losing either Charlie or Renee was an unbearable contemplation, and I felt my heart ache for the surviving Clearwaters.

Charlie gave me a slight squeeze before releasing me to put away the cereal and unused bowl. "I'm going to head over to Sue's. The funeral's tomorrow and there's quite a few details to take care of yet."

"I'll go with you," I said compulsively. The thought of remaining home alone all day long with nothing but the memory of yesterday's phone call to keep me miserable was nauseating, and I found myself considering to take Charlie's lead and skip breakfast all together this morning.

At Charlie's surprised look I hastily corrected myself. "Of course, if you don't think it would be appropriate for me to tag along, then I can stay home and…do something."

"No, no. I'd like it if you came with me. I'm sure Leah and Seth could use all the friends they can get right now."

The edge of my fingernail gave way to the snap of my teeth as I thoughtlessly chewed on my thumbnail—a detestable nervous habit I had acquired during my tweenage years.

I knew Leah…in passing. We'd never really been good friends despite our similarity in age and my frequent past and present visits to La Push. Arriving at her house the day after her father died would probably be an awkward affair for both of us. But backing out now after Charlie's comment would make me heartless, and if on the off chance that I was able to help the Clearwaters, I'd gladly place aside my own discomfort and do what I could.

We took the cruiser, which was good for Charlie who always found getting behind the wheel to be very relaxing; the tension visibly eased from his face and hands as he reversed out of the driveway and then shifted the car into drive.

I, on the other hand, suffered silently in the passenger seat. Without the wet, curvy Fork roads to require my passive attention, my mind was allowed to wander. Seven months ago this wouldn't have been a problem, but now it was dangerous. Especially now.

I couldn't believe Alice had called. I had actually spoken to her. Well, sort of. I hadn't been particularly articulate, but that was hardly the point. Contact, any contact, with the Cullens was a forbidden fantasy I never allowed myself to entertain for very long. After things had ended so _cleanly_, I never expected to hear from any of them ever again. He'd been so insistent about that.

But what did it mean? Why now after so long? Attempting to recall the specifics of the conversation was hopeless when my mind was so overwhelmed with the incident as a whole, so I resigned myself to leaning against the cool glass of the car window as I clutched at the gaping tear in my middle.

Charlie either didn't notice my agony or was simply pretending to be oblivious as we entered La Push and eventually came to a stop beside the small Clearwater residence. The lack of cars parked outside was surprisingly deceiving, because as Charlie opened the front door without knocking I was greeted not with the silent somberness of a house in mourning, but a bustling hum as a handful of women and a couple of older men moved about the living room and front hall in a calm but steady stream of activity.

The tempting fragrance of baked goods drifted past my nose, and I instantly found myself regretting my decision to forgo breakfast as I followed Charlie into the kitchen where even more women were hard at work kneading dough and stirring a hodgepodge of boiling pots. Charlie made a beeline for a middle-aged woman who sat in the corner shelling beans. From the shaking of her hands and the redness of her eyes I assumed that this was Sue Clearwater, and I dutifully lowered my eyes as she exchanged quiet words with Charlie.

"…of course. This must be Bella."

I looked up at the sound of my name and tried not to notice that her face twitched with the effort of being pleasantly interested. Her voice trembled in time with her hands.

"Leah is just upstairs if you wanted to say hello. Maybe you'll get a better response out of her than her other friends." She sounded doubtful and I couldn't blame her.

Dutifully I turned toward the direction Sue had vaguely gestured to and found the stairs without much difficulty. As I ascended to steps, the dread grew. My experience in consoling was almost completely nonexistent, limited solely to the time Renee's puppy had died just two weeks after she'd rescued it from the local shelter.

She had cried while I rubbed her shoulders, and when she went to bed later that evening I put the nearly new dog bed in the trash out by the curb along with the over sized bag of puppy food. The next morning Renee was somber, but by dinner I had her laughing over bags of popcorn and Gilmore Girls re-runs.

Somehow I doubted this situation called for similar methods of distraction.

There were only three doors on the second floor, one of which was clearly marked with a sign reading "Seth's Room: Stay Out Or Else" and another which was cracked open to reveal dark, mature furniture that clearly belonged to an adult. That left door number three. I stood outside for a moment before working up the courage to lightly tap on the door.

"Leah, it's Bella Swan."

Nothing.

"Do you mind me coming in?"

The thickness of the dull murmurs coming up the stairs prompted me into action, and I slowly opened the door and poked my head inside. Leah sat atop her bed, looking small and unapproachable with her legs folded stiffly beneath her rigid form as she stared unsmilingly down at the bed sheets.

I couldn't take my eyes from her face, which was unnaturally smooth and devoid of emotion. Her usually animated eyes were fixed in an indecipherable gaze that somehow bore into the bed, straight through the floor, and right into the souls of all of the people loyally milling around downstairs. It felt oddly like I was intruding.

"Hello, Bella." The greeting was stale and lacked any real meaning; it sounded more like a random grouping of letters rather than actual words.

"Hey, Leah."

More silence ensued, and Leah still didn't look up at me.

"I can leave if you would like to be alone…"

Her shoulders rose and fell in a gesture that I assumed was a shrug, but again it was delivered so detachedly that I was left unsure if she had even meant to move at all.

Despite my offer, I couldn't bring myself to actually move my legs and head for the door. So I just settled for staring at her.

She looked remnant of a vacant body, and I realized that this was most likely some type of coping mechanism, and Leah was just grieving. Waves of compassion rolled through me as I was reminded of the terrible incident that had left her in this state, and I stepped forward so that I could reach out and take her hand in mine. "Leah, I'm so, so very sorry…"

The iciness of her skin caused me to flinch away, and as a result her hand fell limply back to the mattress with a quiet thump. At first Leah didn't even respond, as if she hadn't been touched at all, until with obvious effort she flickered her brown eyes up to meet my own. I gasped at what I saw, or more precisely what I didn't see, and before I could even give a thought to politeness, I was turning on my heel and bolting for the stairs.

* * *

AN: It's so great to be back here and finally sharing this with you guys. *dreamy sigh* :)

Okay, so I know what you're all thinking: not another one of _these_stories. Well, yes...and no. When I began writing this baby over a year ago, this was a pretty hot plot for J/B stories, but I think you'll find that I've done just about everything I can to make this a unique reading experience. One of the main elements may be a little slow to develop, but I've worked extremely hard on characterization and the the character's development, that I don't think you should be bored. So, give it a few chapters before you jump ship!

Please, leave me some feedback (or scold me for my plethora of unfinished stories from YEARS ago. Oh, middle school how I miss you). If you share your thoughts with me, I promise to reciprocate!


	2. Scab

**Zenith**

_Chapter Two - Scab_

* * *

For once in my life I didn't trip.

It seemed my body was just as eager as my reeling mind to put distance between me and the source of my distress as I flew past Charlie to the front door without so much as a word. But my feet weren't satisfied to stop there, and they carried me back down La Push's main road until Leah's window was out of view—but not out of mind. Even then I only slowed to a stumbling jog, my luck having run out as my toes caught on stray rocks and branches littering the ground.

Without even consciously setting out to see him, I somehow managed to find myself outside of Jacob's house, gasping for breath and fist poised to pound against the door. I paused in this moment to allow my sluggish mind to catch up with the presumptuous actions of my body, and hesitantly my hand lowered back to my side.

If Jake answered, what would I tell him? The truth? That I'd fallen so completely and helplessly in love with a vampire, and that since he left me, my life has been devoid of all meaning? That would go over well.

Jacob and I had never really discussed Edward, not directly. It was the one part of my life I had kept from my best friend, and he'd known me well enough not to pry despite his poorly concealed curiosity.

But how else could I fully explain the terror that seized me upon coming face to face with Leah's lifeless stare, a stare that reminded me so much of myself in my own darkest hour? It would mean telling him everything, without censoring to spare either his feelings or mine.

The hole in my chest rebelled painfully. Telling Jacob could quite possibly result—and I shuddered at this possibility—in me losing him. He'd finally realize just how truly pathetic and worthless I was.

But Leah's blank face floated eerily in the forefront of my mind, and I knew my decision was already made.

"Jake, it's Bella," I called as I knocked insistently against the door. When there was no answer after my third attempt, my shoulders slumped, and I mindlessly tried the doorknob without any real hope of it being unlocked. So when the old door creaked open without much resistance, I was surprised, but grateful.

The house was dark, the shudders closed against the weak daylight, but I had no trouble maneuvering through the small spaces that were always kept clutter-free to ensure Billy's ability to get around in his chair. I walked blindly until I hit the far wall of the living room, where I ran my hand along the wood until I found the short hall and eventually a doorknob.

Just walking into Jake's room was a relief; the scent and essence of him stuck to everything: the rumpled, unmade bed, the overflowing laundry basket, and the oak dresser topped with small wood carvings and unframed pictures.

Just a couple of steps into the room brought me to edge of the bed, and I slowly lowered myself onto it, testing its response to my weight as I bounced gently.

I had never been on Jake's bed before. And where there should have been a reluctance to invade his personal space or to cross some societal line of modesty, there was only a great sense of relief that the mattress was firm, like Jake, and that it carried his unmistakable woodsy scent. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that he was sitting there next to me, frowning with exasperation at my wretched state.

Despite the mid-day light streaming in through the one small window and the nine hours of sleep I had gotten the night before, I felt drowsiness tug on my senses, a clear testament to how exhausting an experience drowning actually was.

Jake wouldn't mind if I mooched off his bed for a little while. It really was rather comfy.

With this sleepy thought and a relenting sigh, I fell back and rolled over onto my side as I kicked off my shoes. It was a great relief that when my eyes closed it was Jake's warm smile and not Leah's emotionless stare that I saw so clearly.

* * *

This was a good dream.

No impending sense of dread, no desperate search, and no dark, scary forest—though I could still faintly catch the smell of damp earth. It was rare for me to feel such contentment, especially in dreams, so I just allowed myself to float in the sensation, unbothered by the lack of sights and sounds. Just feeling was nice.

"Bella."

Warm hands.

Ah. Now it made sense.

"Jake." The name came out as a groan, and he chuckled lightly as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stretched the kinks from my slumbering muscles.

"Nice dreams, bed head?"

I let the jab at the sorry state of my hair pass. "Yes, actually. It was the best I've slept in a while."

I moved blinkingly to a sitting position and didn't bother to suppress an enormous yawn. Jake continued to watch me in amusement, and I fought to not appear too mortified at his scrutiny

"How long was I out?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. You were asleep when I got back twenty minutes ago. It's almost four now."

Five hours. I blushed brilliantly.

"I noticed that you just sort of let yourself in."

"I know, and I'm sorry, Jake. I shouldn't have just…"

"No, no. It's fine. Really. My home is yours." He paused and then smiled wickedly. "Of course if you ever plan on using my bed during regular sleeping hours, we'll have to share."

A pillow was in my hands and smacking him upside the face before the words even finished leaving his mouth. He didn't even flinch.

"Baseball bat, Bells," he recommended with a laugh as he tugged the cushion easily from my hands and tossed it to the floor, "or a crowbar. Something with a bit of weight."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't think I wont remember that."

His teasing expression sobered; the upturned curve of his lips went flat and his dark eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Billy was at Sue's today. Said he saw you running down the stairs and out the door like a bat out of hell."

"Oh." He couldn't have given me a better segue way if I'd written it myself to hand him to read, but with the event and the fear seeming so far behind me now, I lost most of my earlier resolve of openness. "Me successfully running down a flight of steps without ending up in the emergency room? Sounds fishy. Sure it wasn't someone else?"

Jacob wouldn't be deterred. "What's wrong, Bella?"

Lots of things. But where to begin?

I eyed him skeptically for a moment. His face was even and controlled except for the soft brown eyes that held mine so mercilessly. It looked like he was _waiting_ for me to spill my heart and soul out or at least knew that I was considering it.

I sighed. He _looked_ calm enough.

"Jake," I began slowly, trying to mentally map out what to say and in what order, "after the Cullens left, I wasn't…well." A gross understatement, and Jacob knew it. Why was this so difficult to tell him?

"I wasn't myself for a very long time. Life," I paused and tried to find words that could accurately describe the encompassing hollowness I'd experienced, "Well, it ceased to hold any real meaning to me, and it was so painful to keep going every day that I kind of shut down and tried to make myself numb to everything. It was just easier that way." It really had been effortless. Moving and talking without any real purpose. Doing without actually thinking, because when I did think, I thought of _him_. "I still did what I was supposed to do, but I was more like a…"

"Zombie," Jake said grimly, and I nodded. "Charlie talked to Billy about you a lot. He said…he said he thought you needed 'professional help,' but he couldn't stand the idea of sending you away to some institution."

I had expected as much. Charlie wasn't stupid. He knew that my behavior was abnormal and unhealthy.

Guilt kicked in as I realized just how much I'd put my own dad through in those few months and that Jake hadn't been as oblivious to my sufferings as I'd hoped. I had tried so hard not to hurt anyone.

"But why, Bella?" Jake pleaded, suddenly urgent. "Why did it hurt you so bad that those leeches left? They don't deserve your hurt!"

His outburst startled me. I'm sure that question had been burning inside him for weeks now. Of course he didn't understand. How could he when I had never told him or anyone else for that matter? And this was the part that was going to hurt—both of us.

"Because I love-d them, Jake, all of them. And Edward…" The hole throbbed painfully inside of me. "…I loved Edward more than I can describe with words."

Edward had always had the knack for conveying the depth of his emotions that I gracelessly lacked. So effortlessly he had expressed our love, and only now was I beginning to understand that even his beautiful words fell short of its true depth. On my end at least.

"He was my everything, and I constantly craved for every little piece of him: his beauty, his compassion, his strength, his intelligence, his soul."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and I couldn't bring myself to look up and see the disgust that I was certain filled Jake's eyes. Instead I soldiered on, continuing in a dead, flat voice. "He loved me too—in a way," I quickly corrected my blunder. "We were happy, or at least I was." There was always a qualifier now.

It hurt now looking back at those memories of us together and knowing that he had never truly been satisfied with me. So many words and gestures I had misconstrued the meaning of. The best moments of my life had been simple distractions to him.

"But how could I, a plain human girl, ever hold someone as beautiful and powerful as him?" The incredulity I felt found its way into my voice, strangling the air as it left my throat. "A part of me had always known that I wasn't good enough, that he, the immortal, would tire of me eventually. I just never thought it would be so unbearable."

I clutched at my stomach as the twisting sensation became almost too much to speak through. I blinked the blackness from my vision and shook my head to clear it of the dizziness.

Almost done, I promised myself.

"But he didn't want me anymore, and who was I to argue? I just wanted him to be happy, and I was holding him back." Who was I to anchor an angel to the earth against his will?

"Then he left." I said it as if it were a simple fact and not the most excruciating experience of my life. "It was my own fault I got lost in the woods," I added a bit defensively because so many people seemed to have a misconception about that.

Jacob's deep moan caused my head to jerk up, and I winced at the sight of him hunched forward on the bed, fists clenched tightly in the sheets. He looked like he was in physical pain.

"Jake," I said softly, trying to sound soothing, "I know that it bothers you that I could ever have feelings for a vampire, but—"

"Bella, don't ever say that!" His hand shot out to catch mine.

My eyes widened at his distressed intensity. I quickly moved to placate him. "I understand that you're natural enemies and there's this history…"

"No," he choked out. "Don't ever say that you're not good enough, because you are. You're more than anyone could ever deserve…especially _him_."

I shook my head. "Jake."

"No, Bella!" he growled. "He…he…" His hands were trembling as he placed them gently, but firmly against either side of my face. "If he could do that to you, tell you you aren't good enough for him, then he…"

Jake's whole body was quivering now. I noticed the warning signs and quickly scooted closer so that I could bury my head in his warm chest and wrap my arms around his neck. "It's okay, Jake. I understand that he had to do what was best for him. I'm not angry with him, and honestly I don't think I ever was."

The shivers reduced to soft shakings as he moaned into my hair. "You're too good, Bella. He doesn't deserve your forgiveness."

"There's nothing to forgive," I said quietly, but I could tell he wasn't going to agree with me today no matter how much I argued. To him Edward would always be the bad guy, the villain who stole a poor unsuspecting girl's innocence. He was too stubborn to be convinced otherwise.

I felt him frown against my forehead. "But what do the Clearwaters have to do with…them?" His jaw clenched over the last word, and I absently reached up to brush my fingers down his cheek and over his chin, as Leah's empty face filled my vision.

"When I saw Leah, I saw myself as I was after Ed—the Cullens left." All I could manage was a quiet murmur; my throat was having difficulty working. "It was like looking into a twisted mirror. I could see that something had died in her just like it had in me. She looked so empty and inhuman. It frightened me."

Jake's arms tightened around my shuddering form. "But she has every reason to grieve. She lost her father. Her dad is _dead_." I choked on the tears threatening to fall. "And me? My boyfriend told me he didn't love me enough to stick around." I shook my head in disgust at both my own selfish problem which paled in comparison to Leah's and my lackluster portrayal of Edward as just my 'boyfriend.' "What right do I have to be miserable?"

Jake was silent, and I knew that he agreed with me even though he was too sweet to ever put it so harshly. I didn't deserve his benevolence.

"I don't want to be that thing anymore, Jake." I slumped in his arms, emotional exhaustion taking its toll. "You're the only person who makes the aching stop, and I don't want to lose you," I admitted this feebly, worried about his reaction.

"Bells, you couldn't get rid of me even if you tried." His voice was thick and sounded nothing like the happy Jacob I was used to, and I hated myself for being the cause of it.

God, I was a parasite who stole people's happiness, even now as I clung desperately to Jacob and his warmth. "But it's not fair for us to go on like we have when I know that you want more. You _deserve_ more."

His giant form stiffened around me at the implication, and he hurried to bat my line of thought down. "I love you, Bella, and honestly I need you just as selfishly as you need me. I'd rather have some small part of you than nothing at all. Please, use me. I don't mind."

But I had already come to a decision about this. Whether it was when we were sitting in the truck outside my house or in the five minutes it took for me to run here from Leah's room, I wasn't really sure, but at some point my subconscious had made the decision that the rational part of my brain couldn't.

"By being your friend I'm hurting you, so I don't think we would should—"

"No, Bells!"

I took a deep, deep breath and let it slide aimlessly past my lips. "I can't be your friend anymore…"

He groaned and pulled me impossibly closer.

"…so I'm going to try as hard as I can to be what you want me to be," I said finally, and when he looked down at me with wide, shocked eyes, I hurried to continue. "I can't promise to give you everything you deserve, but I'll try." I held his gaze and attempted to convey the depth of my sincerity. "With everything I have left."

"Bella," he breathed my name and shifted his gaze to the wall behind us. He was silently struggling with some great internal conflict; the battle between what you feel and what you desire was familiar to me.

"I don't want you doing this because you think it's what I want or because you feel guilty," he said after a long pause. It was hard for him to say, but I could tell he meant it. "I want you to do what _you_ want."

I drew my chin up to rest on his shoulder, and the suppressed tears finally got their way, the salty drops sliding down my cheeks until they fell in messy trails over his skin.

"I want to be happy again," I whispered brokenly in his ear, "and you make me happy, Jacob Black."

He could have smiled, laughed, told me to get lost, or snorted in my face, but he didn't. Instead he held me in one of his familiar hugs that I'd come to associate with security and contentment, and in his embrace I found my safe harbor.

I allowed myself a few minutes of indulgence, letting his warmth seep into me and cloud my usually much more responsible thoughts. But soon the heat became overwhelming, and I gently freed myself from his tight grasp to stand in the small space between the wall and the bed. The distance made it easier to think coherently, and I reaffirmed my decision to do this the right way, the way that was fair to Jacob.

I still had to make sure he knew I was broken goods. With that goal in mind, I swallowed any insecurity and tried to look as resolute as possible.

"But you have to understand my heart isn't whole anymore; it's in pieces, Jake." My eyes bore into his, imploring him to understand the depth of my damage. When he didn't flinch or lower his gaze, I continued on more softly, "But whatever is left of it is yours."

We stared silently at each other, me standing and he perched tensely on the edge of the bed just a few steps away. I held my breath, desperate to know what he was thinking, wondering if my life was about to become all the more unbearable, until gently, as if approaching a wounded animal, he reached out and pulled me to stand between his legs, his hands resting on my waist. Then, with a tenderness I so rarely got to see in him, he brushed his nose across the plains of my stomach and murmured, "Is this where it hurts?"

I could only nod wordlessly as he paused and pressed his lips gently against the thin cotton of my shirt. My breath hitched.

Warmth spread from that one point of contact to flood my senses, effectively leaving me dazzled.

* * *

AN: A big thanks to everyone who is reading and extra kudos to Cara Mia for reviewing! Thanks, dear.

I posted a one-shot on Sunday titled "Beautiful Hands," so go check it out, and tell me what you think.


	3. 12 Step Program

**Zenith**

_Chapter Three – 12 Step Program_

_

* * *

_

I jumped when a knock came from the closed door, but Jacob didn't even flinch, only turning his head slightly when the door was pushed open to reveal a solemn looking Billy. I blushed as his gaze took in Jake's and my intimate position.

"Ah, there you are, Bella. Charlie's been looking for you."

Well if he hadn't checked the Black's yet, he certainly couldn't have been searching for long. Where else would I be holed up? I was almost positive that Billy was just trying to give us a heads up more than anything else, and once again I found my self envious of Jacob's easygoing relationship with his father.

"Thanks."

Deciding to heed his warning, I stepped a safer distance away from Jake but allowed my palm to slide into his as he rose from the bed. Together we made our way to the front of the house, and sure enough through the kitchen window I could see Charlie stepping out of the cruiser.

We met him outside, and I was glad when he didn't question my dramatic exit from the Clearwater house earlier that day. I had no honest answers to give him.

Still feeling sentimental, Charlie gave my shoulder a one-handed squeeze before turning solemnly to Billy. "So I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow, then. I think I'll try to get here early to help set up."

Billy's weathered face was just as grave, and I felt the despair that always accompanied funerals creep up on me. "Sure, sure. See you tomorrow."

Charlie moved to get into the front seat of the car, and my hold on Jacob's hand tightened. I wasn't ready to leave him just yet, not when there was suddenly so much to discuss. We'd only struck the tip of the iceberg of the mess that was currently our relationship.

Jacob seemed to notice my reluctance and wrapped his arms around my shoulders to give them a fierce hug that offered loads more of reassurance and warmth than Charlie's gesture had. "I'll be around," he murmured in my ear.

For once I didn't argue against his insistence to patrol Forks for my sake, and with that promise and another departing hug, I walked around the cruiser and slid into the passenger seat.

The ride back home was even more stressful than the ride out. Beneath my calm exterior I was bordering on hysterical—a recognizable side effect of whenever I suffered from emotional overload. But still, too much emotion was better than too little. Right?

Surely the pounding of my heart, hitching of my breath, and sloshing of my stomach was a sign I was getting better.

By the time we pulled into the driveway, my leg was bouncing uncontrollably and my muscles had tensed to point where it was uncomfortable, and no sooner had Charlie put the car in park I was bolting for the front door, unwilling to give him the chance to get in an obligatory question as to my health—mental or otherwise. Any concern from him was likely to cause my tightly wound nerves to ignite and send me to pieces.

I tripped up the stairs to my room, not pausing until I was standing in front of the opened window, where after a shaky exhale, I greedily sucked in all of the chilly Forks air I could stand. I welcomed the burn as it flowed into my lungs. The cool, moist wind that blew in over my face was as good as a bucket of ice water, and I found my control begin to slowly return as I once again became grounded in sanity.

Sane was a relevant term though.

It wasn't sane to try to love again, not when I had already loved so completely. It wasn't sane to pretend I could ever be enough for Jacob when there was so little of my heart left to give him. And it certainly wasn't sane that a part of me, a very big part of me, wasn't willing to let my love for Edward go.

Rationality demanded that I had to loosen his hold on me if I ever truly wanted a chance to be happy, but when had I ever been rational?

I knew the answer; it was the day before I met Edward.

Before I'd moved to Forks, I had thrived on judiciousness and logic. Reasoning had been my only weapon in my battle to keep Renee in line and my only means to make those difficult decisions I always wrestled with.

But meeting Edward had changed all that. Instinct had replaced reasoning, and loving him had replaced everything else.

Learning to be practical again was going to be an uphill battle because being practical meant acknowledging that Edward wasn't coming back and that I had to move on. This particular truth was always on my mind—though never at the forefront—usually tucked safely into some dark corner where I didn't have to ever consciously acknowledge it or the pain or the accompanying pain.

It was a simple impossibility that I could ever forget what we'd had together, not in a thousand lifetimes. But if I wanted this one lifetime to mean anything, I would have to let go of what I couldn't have.

I would always love him. That couldn't be helped. But spending the rest of forever pinning after someone wasn't love, was it?

Edward, despite all the pain his abandonment has caused me, wasn't an intentionally cruel person; he wouldn't want me to be miserable. Actually he'd probably find it pathetic, and he'd be right.

I rested my shaky hands on the opened window and willed myself to be strong enough to do what was healthy, what was best for _me_.

"He's not coming back," I murmured to myself. "I have to move on." The words were feeble and reluctant to come off my tongue. Just plain wrong.

I grimaced and pressed my forehead against the cool pane of glass. "He's not coming back. I have to move on," I repeated louder this time, but it still sounded unconvincing.

The rush of hot air past my parted lips fogged the window, and I stared as it gradually cleared, all the while repeating the mantra in my head over and over until thinking it was painless: hesnotcomingbackIhavetomoveon.

The window's surface was cool, smooth to the touch. When I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine it was Edward's statuesque form I was leaning against, and in a small moment of weakness, I allowed myself this delusion. He was there with me in my room, sitting impeccably still just like he used to every night before he left. There, leaning against the glass, I felt the calmest I had in months. If only I could hear his voice…

No, that would have made the next part near impossible.

With a contented sigh, I reached up and caressed the firm coldness and imagined it was his smooth, flawless cheek.

"You're not coming back," I told him quietly. "I have to move on." It came out as an apology not an affirmation, but I meant it just the same.

I slid the window closed and turned the rusty latch. "Goodbye, Edward."

Now we were both free.

Unfortunately my decision to keep the past right where it was didn't translate well to my subconscious, and that evening I suffered from strange, new nightmares. Edward starred as per usual, standing a distance away from me in all his brilliance. But now I wasn't running towards him. I simply stood and watched as a look of overpowering horror twisted his beautiful face.

A low rumble sounded from behind me, and I could feel warm fur brush against the backs of my arms and neck. This just seemed to alarm Edward all the more, and I tried to call out and tell him everything was okay—that it was just Jacob—but my voice wouldn't work, and I could only watch helplessly as he trembled in agony.

Needless to say, that I woke up that morning feeling worse than when I'd gone to bed. Too ashamed by my actions the day before to face Charlie or the prospect of attending Harry Clearwater's funeral, I laid silently in bed until I heard the front door close and the Cruiser's engine rumble to life.

Only then did I make my way down to the kitchen blurry-eyed and still dressed in my pajamas. The shinny surface of the microwave provided me with a less-than-subtle reminder of how terrible I'd slept, seeming to emphasize the circles beneath my eyes and the haystack on top of my head in its unjustly distorted reflection of my image. Not that there was anything _good_ about my appearance to emphasize in the first place. I winced and shuffled on.

Mindlessly I placed a couple of Pop-Tarts in the toaster, only pausing to really give any thought to the process when the pastries popped right back up without toasting. Frowning in consternation, I pushed the toaster's lever down. Again the Pop-Tarts sprung back up as soon as I let go.

I groaned. Of all mornings.

I took a deep breath, forced the Pop-Tarts down once more, and exhaled noisily when they screeched back up with a grating squeal of the springs.

Since when had the toaster stopped working?

I pushed down. I let go. They came up. Again.

My eyes narrowed.

No twenty-year-old toaster was going to stand in way of my sugary, processed breakfast, darn it!

I viscously pushed down on the lever, not even letting the spring release entirely before I was forcing it back down again. I growled in annoyance.

"Geeze, Bells. Hugs not drugs!"

I was too focused to be surprised by Jacob's sudden appearance in the kitchen. "It's the toaster!" I practically whined. "It, like the rest of the world, is conspiring against me!"

He raised an eyebrow in hardly contained amusement. "Damn appliance. Better watch out because it's probably in league with the rest of them."

His sarcasm wasn't lost on me.

"You'll see," I challenged. "First it was the microwave, now it's the toaster, next it will be the washing machine, and then my truck…" I threw my hands into the air in exasperation.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry much about your truck, cuz I'm pretty sure that doesn't have to be plugged in."

"Huh?"

He reached past me to the kitchen counter where he grabbed the suspiciously loose power cord and plugged it into the outlet on the wall. He pushed the Pop-Tarts down, and, not so magically, the coils began to heat.

"Oh." Heat rushed to my face. "Damn appliance," I muttered in agreement.

We waited in silence until my breakfast was ready and then sat together at the kitchen table as I pretended not to realize he was watching me intently.

"So," I began after swallowing my last bite, "Jake, not that I'm not glad you're here, but shouldn't you be at the funeral?" I was careful to avoid any mention of yesterday's events.

He shrugged but didn't take his evaluating eyes off of me. "I've already said my goodbyes."

I nodded and couldn't help but wonder if he dreaded the overbearing depression of funerals as much as I did. It was a comforting thought.

Jacob cleared his throat and uncrossed his legs so that he could lean towards me with his arms folded on the table. "I heard you screaming last night." His tone was carefully light, but I was still startled.

"You…you did?" A sense of dread settled in my stomach. That meant Charlie probably heard. He'd be unconvinced that I was getting any better if I kept yelling in my sleep.

"I was on patrol when I heard you, and I thought I'd screwed up, that somehow she had gotten past me to you." There were remnants of panic in his eyes as he recalled the memory, and I was compelled to reach out for his hand, but he jerked it away at the last moment, his posture tense. "I got to your house as quickly as I could, and I was about to phase back when I realized I couldn't get in 'cause your window was closed—since when do you close your window?"

"I…" He didn't wait for my response.

"So naturally I decided I'd break down the front door."

"Naturally." I tried to sound nonchalant in order to disguise my bewilderment.

"I wasn't exactly thinking logically," he admitted grimly, no hint of a teasing smile. "Fortunately, Sam was, and he talked me down enough to get me to recognize there even a trail. If the bloodsucker had been anywhere near the house, I would have been able to pick up her stench."

"Sam was there?" How embarrassing that everyone had gotten so worked up because of my silly nightmares.

He tapped his head, and I sighed. Right, no secrets in this family. "Sam was patrolling the La Push border and kindly reminded me I was being a complete dumbass…" I frowned at his language, and he had the decency to look sheepish. "Sorry. Anyway, I finally took the time to actually concentrate on what I could hear…your uneven breathing, and what I could smell…you alone."

"Well, I'm sure both Charlie and the door are very grateful."

Jacob didn't smile. "The screaming, Bells?"

"A nightmare. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." It was true, even though I struggled to sound dismissive.

"Must have been some nightmare," he hedged still looking concerned.

My chest tightened at Jacob's sincerity, and I gave him a considering look. Last night I had taken the first step of the Vampire Boyfriend Anonymous 12-step plan (shamelessly stolen from an AA site I had used for a school project): admitting I had a problem. Step two was to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore my sanity. Though not a highly religious person, I had to acknowledge that if God were going to attempt to get me though this, Jacob would no doubt be his means by which to try. And if I truly believed that, then that brought me to step three: deciding to turn my will and life over to God's or, in this case, Jacob's care.

I could do this. I _had_ done this. Yesterday.

Swallowing a gulp of juice, I settled my eyes just above Jacob's left shoulder, careful not to look directly into face. "Edward was there."

At Jacob's flinch, I quickly moved on. "And so were you, standing behind me. Something about the way he was looking at me, at us really…" For the first time I made the connection between Jacob's proximity and Edward's new role in my dreams. It was a thought I stored away to consider later. "It was like he was watching a deadly collision that he couldn't stop in time, like witnessing a car crash." I could vividly recall his wide amber eyes, slack jaw, and crumpled face. The pure anguish. It was similar to the look on his face in that moment I caught his eyes before Tyler's van almost smashed me, only this had somehow been worse. "I've never seen anything like the fear I saw frozen on his face."

Jacob knew me well enough to understand that this was not something I would normally offer so freely. Up until last night I had been mute on the topic of Edward, and now Jacob shifted in his seat, battling discomfort and, I imagined, the impulse to give his standard sarcastic remark about the Cullens.

Eventually his crumpled face smoothed and he looked at me softly. "Did it frighten you?"

Had I been scared? I couldn't recall exactly what I'd felt at the time, but the emotion had certainly been dark enough to be fear. It was as accurate a description as I could give. "Yes."

He opened his arms to me in silent invitation, offering comfort and support only he could give. I eagerly left my own cold, wooden seat to climb into his warm lap where he held me, my head resting against his shoulder. I was putty in his arms; my nerves settled, my body relaxed, and my mind began to think more clearly.

"You don't have to be afraid, ever," he promised in his restful baritone.

"Sometimes I can't help it."

He considered that for a moment. "Then you'll tell me when you do feel frightened, or hurt, or angry, or anything else all doom and gloom, right?"

"Even if it might hurt you?" I didn't want my pain to be his.

He rolled his eyes. "Even if."

He was sacrificing his own well being for mine. My chest tightened painfully. "You don't have to do this, Jake. You should get far away from me while you still can." Like _he_ had done.

His chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "You're not getting rid of me that easily." He tightened his arms around me in emphasis. "I'm stuck to you like an Algae Eater to the side of a dirty fish tank."

"Nice mental picture," I grumbled. "Just when I thought you were beginning to sound romantic, you go and compare me to a wall of scum-covered glass."

"Four walls of scum-covered glass, and I didn't know you wanted me to sound romantic," he said with a sly smile.

I blushed and managed a one-shoulder shrug. "I told you I'd try."

"Well if I'd known that was an open invitation…" He let his words trail off suggestively, and I attempted to appear casual despite the sudden fluttering in my stomach.

"No, no. I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do."

He growled playfully, causing me to squeal as he suddenly and effortlessly shifted me in his arms so we were face-to-face, noses brushing and mouths meeting. His lips took me by surprise; they were warm, soft, and insistent against mine—nothing I was accustomed to in a kiss.

Shocked and embarrassingly out of my element, I held still for a handful of moments, my uncertainty battling with a growing curiosity to explore this new sensation of heat on heat.

And though no one should be so patient, somehow Jacob managed it beautifully, not backing off or pushing for more as I sat unresponsive in his lap locked in an internal debate. I grasped wildly for all the reasons we shouldn't be doing this and could only think about step three and how right now, with Jacob so close and so hot, I wanted to give him a lot more than just my life and will. This wasn't some thoughtless whim; this was what I wanted. I wanted to give this part of myself to him.

Slowly I found myself kissing back.

He moaned against my mouth, the sound sparking an excitement in my stomach that bubbled into overflowing enthusiasm that pressed against my chest. The slow probing kisses he showered my lips with were no longer enough, and I eagerly curled my fingers around the collar of his t-shirt to pull him closer.

Gravity was working against us as his broad shoulders bent over my small frame, so he pressed his hands to the small of my back as I arched up into him to keep us from toppling off the chair.

He was hot. So hot. So unlike…

He shifted, brought a hand up to angle my head back farther, and moved his lips to my exposed throat. A gasp escaped from my parted lips, I and wondered at how he always managed to know everything about me, including where I was most sensitive to his touch.

Purely out of habit I had relinquished all self-control, subconsciously waiting for him to be the one to put on the breaks—I'd never had to be the responsible one in situations like this. But when his tongue slid along the seam of my lips it sent a not all together unpleasant jolt through my system. By brain flickered with intelligent life.

"Jake." It came out as a sigh and not the deterring command I had intended. I forced my hands, which were fisted in the material of his shirt, to stop pulling him closer. "Jacob," I said more firmly.

He oh-so-slowly pulled away, dragging his teeth along my bottom lip as he went, and my treacherous body automatically leaned forward to follow his retreat.

His upturned lips hovered just above mine. I had trouble focusing on anything else. "Yes?" he asked sweetly, hot breath fanning over my already flushed face.

"I…we should…" What had been so important to tell him? "…I don't remember."

Stupid seductive, disarming smile.

He grinned and placed one, two, three short kisses on my lips, before giving my waist a squeeze and guiding me to my feet. "Maybe we should call it quits for now. I'd hate to push my limit on daily romantic gestures."

I could only nod dumbly in agreement. Oh, right. That's what I'd been trying to say.

The smile on his face widened into the warmest, truest Jacob smile I had ever seen, and I couldn't help grinning back. I had put that smile there.

Of course this thought immediately made me flush as I recalled how exactly I had gone about putting it there: I had just kissed Jacob Black.

* * *

AN: Yay for smoochies! In fact all of you who reviewed last chapter get free Jacob smoochies (unless you're a guy and don't want smoochies, then he'll give you a nice, masculine slap on the back [sorry in advance about the bruises])!


	4. Close Call

**Zenith**

_Chapter Four – Close Call_

* * *

Jake and I spent the rest of the day in my room with him curiously going through my belongings. He moved from my desk to my closet to my bookshelf, shooting questions at me and nodding along or snorting at my responses. It was amusing to watch him concentrate so hard over an old stuffed animal or a stack of my favorite CDs as if he were attempting to solve some great mystery. When I asked him why he was staring a hole through my copy of _Wuthering Heights_, he just shrugged and said it another piece to the Isabella Swan puzzle.

As if I was interesting enough to be put together.

So I let him learn his way around my small room as I started up the computer to e-mail Renee. I wasn't a very good daughter; I'd been neglecting her again.

In the letter I updated her on my school work and told her about Harry Clearwater's passing—I wasn't sure if that was something Charlie would have been comfortable mentioning to her himself. Briefly I entertained the idea of telling her about the latest developments with Jacob because I knew it would thrill her to know I was making an effort at moving on, but when I tried to put our relationship in words, I couldn't make sense of it. So instead I settled with a small paragraph squeezed between my review of the latest book I was reading and a series of questions about how life was going with Phil:

_I've been spending even more time with Jacob recently,_

_but Charlie never complains. I think he sees how good_

_Jake and I are together, though most of the time we're_

_up to no good._

That last part was an understatement, but I didn't feel a need to fill my mother in on my recent cliff diving expedition; she might feel compelled to take up the activity herself. Renee was intuitive enough to pick up on the message without me having to spell it out for her anyway.

"I should probably be heading home. Charlie will be back from the funeral soon."

I spun from the computer screen to face Jake as he stood from the bed. 'Fair's fair,' he'd said when he'd sprawled out on my covers almost an hour ago.

"He won't mind you keeping me company."

It was the truth. Charlie was always been adamant that Jacob and I had the makings of a good couple, lightly dropping comments about how much time we spent together and how I smiled more when Jacob was around. Once, with all the subtlety of beating around the bush with a chainsaw, he'd even said, "Lord help us if the two of you ever have children; they'll be the most headstrong kids this town has seen." Fathers weren't supposed to say that kind of thing to their 18-year-old daughters!

He was going to be impossible to live with when he found out that Jake and I were…more than just friends. Nowhere close to parenthood, but still…

"Yeah, I'm sure he wouldn't mind coming home at night to find me alone with his teenage daughter in her bedroom," Jacob said sarcastically. "Charlie might like me, but he doesn't like me _that_ much. And I'd rather not have to explain why all of the bullet wounds he's bound to inflict don't leave me permanently crippled."

That threw me. "Really? Bullets wouldn't do you in?"

He shrugged and ambled over, bracing his hands against the desk on either side of me as he leaned down so our faces were almost touching. "Goodnight, Bella," he murmured and kissed me slowly, "and sweet dreams." My eyes slid closed as he kissed me again, and I sighed languidly against his mouth.

His warmth disappeared silently, and when I opened my eyes, I was alone.

After Jacob left I mindlessly went though my evening routine of showering, getting in my pajamas, and brushing my teeth without really noticing I was doing it, my thoughts miles away—in La Push.

Jacob. Jake. My Jacob.

Just thinking about the kiss we shared in the kitchen caused my toes to curl in excitement and the butterflies to let loose in my stomach.

The kiss had meant something, but I didn't feel the hefty implications that something so undeniably heated should have weighed me down with. On the contrary, I felt incredibly light—relief had lent me wings, and down below I could see the deep pit of despair I'd thought for certain I'd fall into. It, like most first kisses, marked the beginning of something new, something different than what I had had with Edward.

No, it wouldn't do to compare Edward to Jake or vice versa. One was the love of my life, and the other…well, I'd just have to wait and see.

There _was_ something there though, and I couldn't stop my mind from traveling back to the feel of hot hands pushing into my back and burning lips assaulting my mouth. I'd never experienced anything quite like it before—Edward and I had certainly never kissed like _that_. And I'd be lying to myself if I didn't acknowledge that that was one of the reasons I'd liked kissing Jacob so much; in those moments there had just been me and him, no painful memories or burning holes.

The temporary relief was definitely something I could get used to, but would it be enough to drown out my body's recollection of careful kisses and cold, ghosting touches?

The small smile that had worked its way onto my face fell away as sleep pulled me into restless dreams of a golden-eyed angel.

* * *

That Monday school passed in an uneventful blur not entirely dissimilar from school days during my zombie stage. Only now my disinterest stemmed from anticipation of what the afternoon would bring and not from a complete lack of will to live.

Jacob had surprised me that morning by showing up in his Rabbit to take me to school just minutes after Charlie left the house in the cruiser. Seeing all 6 foot 4 inches of his chiseled frame perched casually on the red hood had made my breath catch in my throat.

For a dazed moment I wondered how I had never truly allowed myself to admire him before. There was something very raw about his masculinity; from his near-perfect physique, tanned skin and angular face to his confidant stride, careless words and rugged clothes. Everything about him was natural, a sort of effortless beauty that would be wasted on some one who was vain.

This appraisal caught me by surprise. I had called him "sort of beautiful" before, but now that I wasn't so caught up in trying to force him into the label "friend" I realized it was a gross understatement.

He impatiently bounced his heel against the front bumper of the car as I stared at him.

"Earth to Bella! We're gonna be late if we don't get this show on the road."

I recovered quickly, forcing down the blush creeping up my neck. "Jake, you didn't tell me a traveling circus had finally agreed to take you in," I shot back with a smile as I grabbed my books and locked the front door.

"It was only under the condition that I bring an equally freaky sidekick. I told 'em I knew a 42-year-old teenager and it was a deal-maker. I'll turn into a wolf and walk around on my hind legs while you go around fainting at the sight of all the people in the nosebleed section."

"Forty-two?" I asked as I slid into the passenger seat.

"Yeah, I gave you four years for being such a good kisser."

I blushed again, and he chuckled as he backed out of the drive and sped towards school. When we arrived in the parking lot, I was reluctant to leave the warmth of the car and Jacob's presence to enter the dismal drizzle that had started up outside. I decided to procrastinate.

"So is there a reason for the unexpected chauffer service this morning?"

"Yes, and it's purely selfish," he said.

"Right." I nodded knowingly. "Deal-maker for the circus."

"If I drive you to school, it means I'll just have to pick you up again in the afternoon." He sighed heavily as if this were some great burden. "I guess I'll just be forced to spend more time with you."

"If all you wanted was to spend time with me, you just had to ask," I told him honestly. Just the thought of going an entire eight hours of school without seeing him had me feeling dismal. "I'd love to see you later."

He mumbled a distracted "sure, sure" but his eyes was focused on something through the windshield. I followed his gaze to see Mike standing with Jessica just under the school's overhang. They were both looking at us intently.

It clicked instantly. Ah.

So time with me hadn't been his only motivation, maybe not even his primary one. "You know, it would have saved you some mileage if you'd just gotten me a 'Property of Jacob' t-shirt," I grouched. Why did guys have to be so needlessly territorial?

He ducked his head, muttered "sorry," and had the decency to look sheepish at being figured out. My heart warmed at the sight of his lower lip caught between his teeth—an anxious habit he'd picked up from me—and I really couldn't hold onto my anger. As I opened the car door I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and was rewarded with a small smile.

"Bye, Bells."

He leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, and, to keep the entire situation from feeling too much like a dad dropping his 12-year-old off at middle school, I turned my head at the last moment so that his lips met mine.

"Bye, Jake," I murmured. "See you after school." I got out of the car quickly before I could see his reaction at my forwardness and made a beeline for the cafeteria's awning. Jessica was there, her hands clasped excitedly in front of her and her eyes determined. This was one confrontation I wasn't going to be able to avoid.

"Bella, you didn't tell me you were dating a college guy! He's gorgeous!" Her high-pitched squeal quickly dropped to a scandalized whisper. "You didn't stay the night at his house, did you?"

"No, he's not a college student; he goes to school in La Push. He just gave me a ride today because my truck's broken down." I said this all so quickly that I hoped she wouldn't be able to see my last statement for the lie it was.

"Oh." Jessica looked visibly less enthusiastic. "But still, he's a catch! And just when everyone was beginning to think you'd never move on from—"

I made my escape as the first bell rang. "Sorry, Jess. I'm going to be late to class."

I spent the majority of the day dodging questions about Jacob and was more than relieved when my last class let out with a visibly sulky Mike speeding off to avoid my company. I was guessing that he might have gotten Jacob's not so subtle hint.

I anxiously bounced on my toes beside the parking lot in anticipation of Jacob's arrival, my eyes intent on the entrance for a glimpse of a red Rabbit. The school lot was emptying out fairly quickly as kids left eager to enjoy the sunlight promised by the sky's clearing cloud cover. By the time there were only a handful of staff vehicles left, I had relocated to a picnic table where my anticipation had quickly turned to irritation at Jacob's tardiness. The La Push school got out an hour before ours did.

Ten minutes of mindless fidgeting later I had worked through anger and resignation to finally settle on worry. This was unusual for Jacob, he'd never left me out to dry before—except for once, and that single exception made me nervous about this particular occurrence. Perhaps something with the pack had come up.

I chewed nervously on my lip when I could only come up with one reason for the why the pack would need an impromptu meeting: Victoria.

Had she made another dive into Forks? Were the wolves in pursuit? Were they able to stop her before she fed, or had another human life been lost because of me?

These possibilities had me hightailing it off campus and starting down Fork's main road to my side street, and I made what was normally a 25-minute hike in just over 15. Huffing and puffing I walked/ran up the driveway and raced through the door to the phone.

There weren't any messages on the machine, so I dialed Jacob's house without having to consciously think about the numbers. As it rang and rang images of Victoria's deadly beautiful face came unbidden to my mind beside my last memory of Jacob from that morning. No one answered.

I anxiously crashed the phone back down the receiver and briefly deliberated before snatching my car keys off the counter and heading out to my truck. As unlikely as it was, Jacob may have just forgotten he needed to pick me up, and it would be silly if not embarrassing to not at least drive to La Push before assuming the worse.

I was pulling the truck's rusted door closed when a piercing howl sent tingles down my spine, effectively freezing me in place. Another drawn out yelp followed, and—if the ringing clarity was any indication—whoever made it was nearby.

I hastily stumbled out of the cab towards the wood's edge.

There was no doubt that that was a werewolf cry—too chilling to belong to an ordinary beast. And it quite possibly could've been _my _werewolf.

According to Jacob, the entire pack had been upping patrols in the last week, but I had never once heard them so clearly until now. Something was wrong. And I didn't doubt for a moment that that something was Victoria.

The day I had jumped off the cliff, the werewolves had been in pursuit of elusive vampire, but she had made a run for it before either side could engage—for which I had been endlessly grateful. But what if this time she didn't run? If Victoria did turn to fight, the outcome would be deadly for somebody.

I took a shaky step into the trees, my instinct to get as far away from Victoria battling with my need to guarantee Jacob and the pack's safety.

But ultimately, any argument against me going would be a weak one. She was here for me, and I would give her what she wanted before I let anyone else suffer on my behalf.

As I started to work my way through the trees, I realized that for the first time I was grateful that the Cullens weren't in Forks, that they were safe from Victoria's deadly warpath. Who knew how far her resentment would reach?

The woods grew denser the farther I wandered, but a minute never passed without some sort of howl or bark to guide me in an ever-changing direction. I felt like I was chasing a phantom, and my reoccurring nightmares came flooding to the forefront of my mind as I continued my search unsuccessfully.

Bent over and gasping for breath, I broke into a small clearing—one I didn't recognize—and was greeted with a sight that left me strangely relieved. Fifty yards away a big, black wolf was crossing the clearing in powerful, effortless strides despite its intimidating bulk. His head turned at the sound of my noisy entrance, and with astonishing grace his body whipped around and his feet stilled.

I couldn't be sure who it was. We stared at each other for several moments, and I wondered if he recognized me until suddenly he bounded off into the trees. Disappointed and mildly frustrated, I considered pursuing him, not that I'd have any hope of catching up, but really what other option did I have?

I trudged forward determinedly.

I was so set on encountering a werewolf, that Sam Uley's sudden appearance in the clearing actually startled me. Bare-chested and barefoot he closed the distance between us in impressive speed. It took me a moment place the wolf's disappearance and Sam's entrance in the same wavelength, and an odd image of a human Sam with sprouting fur and enlarging canines muddled my mind as he slowed to a stop five feet away.

His grace and ease of movement wasn't limited to werewolf form, I noticed absently.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I was quicker. "Where's Jake?"

"Around," he said calmly.

Great. Evasion.

"Are you hunting…?" He cut me off before I could finish.

"What are you doing out here, Bella?" Despite his quiet tone, I could see the tension in the set of his jaw and the stiffness of his stance. "You of all people shouldn't be wandering in the woods alone. Go home."

My fists clenched at his obvious command. He was patronizing even if he didn't mean to be. "It's Victoria, isn't it? She's come back into Forks again."

He looked off to the west with an expression akin to longing, causing my curiosity to burn. "You should head home, Bella," he said, and for the first time his uneven voice betrayed his impatience.

I couldn't find it in me to be sympathetic. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

He glanced over his shoulder once more before stalking past me. Sighing in exasperation I turned to follow him, having to jog to match his longs strides back into the woods I had emerged from.

"I picked up her trail about an hour ago, and it was fresh, no more than a few minutes old. The others were just getting out of school at the time, and as soon we were together we started up a hunt."

My eyes widened, and the lack of focus on my feet cost me my balance as I stumbled over the uneven ground. I barely noticed. "What happened? Where are the others?"

"We followed the trail to a lake and then lost it." His level voice gave away nothing.

"And," I prompted.

My impatience didn't impress him.

"We split up, tried to find her scent again." This time he had to reach out and grasp my arm to keep me from face-planting.

"You went alone?"

"No, but when Paul and I picked up your scent so far out from the town, Jacob was concerned about you being set loose in the woods the same time as the vampire. He wouldn't be able to focus until he was sure of your safety, so I decided to intercept you."

If Sam was here babysitting me, that meant Paul was running alone. And if he did cross Victoria, he would by vulnerable. Somehow I managed to end up as a debilitating inconvenience once again. It seemed I was fated to forever be a burden.

"He's right, of course. Wandering like you were is exactly the opportunity she's looking for. Not to mention that we've been expecting her to be heading towards your house, and we've been planning our own routes accordingly. You're vulnerable when you're alone, away from civilization." He turned his head to shoot me a curious look, and still managed to deftly dodge a low-lying tree branch as I looked on enviously. "What were you doing out here?" he asked, still calm and collected. His serenity only served to irritate me.

"I was worried when Jake didn't show up at school," I scowled defensively. Who was he to reprimand me? He hardly knew me at all.

But then I did a double take because he did barely know me, yet he was standing by me now and had been risking his life in pursuit of my vampire stalker just minutes earlier. He'd done nothing but show me kindness, and here I was selfishly demanding more form him. Instantly I was ashamed of my behavior. I bit my lip and spoke again in a softer tone, "I heard howling and…and I couldn't just sit at home wondering."

Our brisk place slowed. I imagined that after nearly falling for the third time, my complete lack of coordination had made itself known, and Sam was taking pity on me. I let out a long sigh of relief, and when Sam spoke again his voice was calmer but still pointed, and the abrupt subject change sent me for a loop. "After Jacob first joined us, I warned him to stay away from you."

So much for pity.

"I thought that ordering him to keep the secret would be enough." He sighed and shook his head. "I underestimated his devotion to you. Not to mention your own resolve to not let him go."

"You don't approve," I said slowly.

He glanced down to briefly catch my gaze. "It could end badly," he muttered reluctantly.

But I knew exactly what he was getting at. "You're afraid I'll hurt him," I accused.

Sam's answering silence was enough of a confirmation. Had it been someone else, a true outsider, I would have argued against such an allegation because Jacob was my best friend, and hurting him would be like permanently wounding myself. But Sam knew Jacob's mind, probably even better than I did. It was likely the pack leader had seen his true feelings for me and knew that I could never hope to return the full scope of them. It was a disheartening thought.

After a few moments of quiet reflection, I admitted quietly, "I'm afraid of that too."

He seemed to consider something before speaking again. "Jacob has more potential than I've ever seen or heard of. His control over the transformation, which is supposed to grow with time and experience, greatly outshines my own." Where I would have expected to hear resentment or jealousy in his voice, there was only blatant admiration.

"He's so young yet so in tune with the wolf's instincts. It's as if he could completely give himself over to the animal and live as one without feeling the need to ever revert back to the weaker, human part of him. Living off the land, acting on survival instinct alone, no limitations."

I stared at him bewildered. How could he say that like it was a good thing? The idea of Jacob so easily giving up his humanity, the brightness that made him _my_ Jacob, to become a mindless animal was disturbing. I was certain he could never want that, to be a wolf all the time.

"But he's holding back," he continued with a frown. He eyed me coolly, and I could feel the unspoken accusation of his statement. _You're holding him back._

"If being one with the wolf is so great, why don't you give it a try?" I shot back defensively.

"I did," he answered serenely, "just after I changed for the very first time. I thought I'd gone insane. People don't just turn into wolves. For almost two weeks I stayed transformed, and by then I had given up hope of ever being human again and had subconsciously decided to let the wolf, or my insanity it seemed, have me."

Despite myself, I couldn't help but hang on his every word. It wasn't often I got such an intimate look in a werewolf's psyche. Jacob edited a lot.

"My calm resignation did the trick however, and eventually I changed back. But it wasn't easy being human. I was so angry all of the time, and usually there wasn't even a logical reason for it. I hurt a lot of people: my friends, my mother, Leah."

_Leah_, I thought sadly, and I recalled her broken expression from a few days ago. Had Sam and Leah been close?

"I thought that if I kept the time I spent as human to a minimum, I could eventually distance myself from the people I was hurting and they could move on. I'd be a wolf first and Sam second. I didn't expect to encounter such fierce resistance to my plan though. It seemed that no one was willing to let me go peacefully; when the elders found out about what I'd become, they did their best to persuade me that staying grounded in human interaction was important…for my duty. I was selfish and disagreed in the beginning…"

He trailed off, and a small smile brightened his passive face. "And then I met Emily. After that I knew there was no leaving the human side of me behind. Instead I vowed to not let the others go through the change alone like I did."

The compassion that burned inside of me at hearing Sam's experience was strong, but I noticed a flaw in his logic. "If you didn't…succumb…to your full potential as wolf because you fell in love with Emily, isn't it a bit hypocritical to resent me for holding back Jacob?"

He shook his head. "It's not the same."

"You don't think I love him back," I said knowingly. And I couldn't be angry because honestly I didn't know if I could ever return even a fraction of Jacob's feelings. Yet I clung to him anyway.

Ugh. I was so selfish.

"I don't doubt that you care for him. It's just not the same unbreakable hold…"

Well that was a little presumptuous. "I know that you and Emily love each other very, very much; I see it when you look at her. If Jake even had a chance to have that kind of love, wouldn't you want that for him?"

"Of course," he answered, and he sounded sincere. "If Jacob does imprint, I'll be thrilled for him, grateful even. But at least for now he has the opportunity to be so much more than—"

"What's an imprint?" Some sort of Quileute slang?

He looked reluctant. "It's complicated."

Ah. Werewolf jargon then.

"Yes, you wouldn't want to overwhelm the mere mortal." I'd get it out of Jacob later.

After that we continued on through the forest, and I was surprised to realize how far from home I'd made it. Embarrassingly, Sam had to practically walk me to my front yard before I was certain I knew the rest of the way home. Before he could take off, I secured a guarantee that he would have Jacob call me as soon as he was home. In return I promised not to leave the house.

Unfortunately, time alone meant time to think. And all I could think about was Jacob and how he was out there somewhere seeking his possible demise. By the time Charlie got home, I was a nervous wreck.

* * *

AN: As always, I really appreciate the time and effort some of you took to leave me reviews. They were lovely.

I also wanted to spread the good news that I am working with a few other ladies to create a qaulity-controlled J/B fanfiction community on livejournal. The comm's name is theair_thesun, and while the official opening day isn't until this Saturday, we just started accepting story submissions (to make sure everything is running smoothly). So if any of you are J/B authors or are interested in reading some god fic and participating in fanfiction discussion, please stop by and see what we're all about. I'd love to see you there. :D


	5. Choking

**Zenith**

_Chapter Five – Choking_

* * *

Charlie sat at the table wide-eyed, taking in the buffet of food crowding our small kitchen table.

"You made all this, Bells?" He sounded truly dumbfounded. With three main courses, five sides, and two desserts, who could blame him?

"I just wanted to try out a few new recipes."

A lie.

I had spent the last two hours slaving away in the kitchen because I had to keep my mind occupied and my hands busy, or else I would break my promise. Every pot and pan Charlie owned was sitting in the sink.

He remained motionless as he surveyed the banquet that was enough to feed a small, third world country for a week. His lack of movement irritated me in a moment when I so desperately needed a distraction.

"You know," I said lightly—imploringly, "trying to absorb so much food into your body via brainwaves can't be healthy. You just might have to do it the old-fashioned way." I tapped my own fork and spoon for emphasis. "Unless you're not hungry…"

"No, no. Everything looks great." And with that, he enthusiastically began loading his plate with the hodgepodge of cuisine that would make the chefs at the Lodge proud.

He spoke only once between bites to ask me if I wasn't hungry, and I absently assured him that I had already eaten.

Another lie.

I poured all of my focus into watching the movement of his fork stabbing into the steak, his hand bringing the glass of milk to his lips, his pleasantly surprised reaction to the sweet potatoes. It wasn't enough. Not nearly.

My bottom lip found its way between my teeth, and my eyes landed on the too silent telephone.

He should have called by now. He should have called. Sam had promised that as soon as things with Victoria were taken care of, Jacob would call. What if Jacob couldn't call because he…

Suddenly the overwhelming aroma from the food had my stomach rolling.

Just as my eyes once again strayed towards the phone, a knock came from the front door.

"I'll get it," I said needlessly as I jumped to my feet; Charlie wasn't planning on moving from his seat anytime soon.

I opened the door and stiffened at the sight of the figure standing nonchalantly on my porch.

"Man, Bells, it smells great in there."

He had to be kidding.

The knots in my stomach untangled only to drop unceremoniously to my feet. Heat rushed to my fce, tinged my ears red, and made body shake. I glared at Jacob in disbelief, and he raised an eyebrow when I didn't respond or move from the doorway.

"You mind if I come in—"

"You didn't call," I bit out lowly, daring him to do anything but quake in his boots and beg for my forgiveness.

Any icy silence settled between us, him surprised and me fuming.

His weight shifted, but he didn't take his eyes off my face. I imagined he saw my wrath and was calculating how much longer he had to live. Not very.

"Sam told me you were safe and—"

"You. Didn't. Call," I growled out, and anyone watching our exchange would have had a hard time determining which one of us changed into a giant dog on a regular basis.

How could he be so dismissive? I'd spent my entire afternoon worrying—needlessly apparently—over him and his safety—wondering if he'd survived an encounter with a sadistic vampire—and now here he was wanting to know if he could come in, and what? Shoot the breeze?

No freaking way.

"Bella…" His bemused tone revealed what little regard he held for my current black state, and it only made my angrier. I didn't want to be belittled. Sam had given me more than my daily dose.

He took a step towards me, and I moved a step backwards into the house, keeping my hand on the door. His eyes narrowed in frustration at my evasiveness. I scowled in return.

With pursed lips he stepped forward, and—as futile as the action was—I raised my hands to push him away.

"You didn't call," I accused again, though that fact alone wasn't the driving force behind my fury anymore; his amusement was fueling the flames now.

As expected, he caught my wrists and effortlessly pulled my forearms and clenched fists tightly against his chest, drawing me into his warm, firm hold despite my struggling. Stupid overpowered werewolf.

"Let go," I demanded, and I meant it. But he just moved us deeper into the house towards the kitchen, me still ensnared in his arms.

"Hey, Charlie," Jacob greeted brightly as he came into view.

"Well, hey, Jake! You haven't eaten yet, have you? We've got plenty of food to go around."

I paused in my effort to break Jacob's toe with my heel to stare incredulously at Charlie. He sat completely relaxed at the table, calmly eating while I was being _manhandled_. Me, his daughter.

Traitor.

"Thanks. Sounds great."

Jacob towed me over to the table and sat us down across from where Charlie was watching us smugly. My wrists remained firmly encased in Jacob's left hand as he put a helping of pulled pork on my unused plate.

"I hope you choke," I muttered.

"Bella," Charlie chastised.

"No, it's okay, Charlie," Jacob said dismissively. "That's just our way of saying we love each other." He turned a beaming smile on me. "I hope you choke too, Honey."

My death glare would have sent anyone with a lick of sense running for the nearest bomb shelter. Too bad Jake had the mental capacity of week-old road kill.

"So," Charlie began after he was through with his second helping, "are you two 'together' now?"

"No," I snarled at the same time Jake gave a cheery "Yes."

"Not anymore," I corrected scathingly.

My response didn't seem to concern Jacob, as he smiled and took another bite of piping hot food. He saw my tantrum as a passing storm, certain that I'd forgive him for any wrongs soon enough.

And I quickly turned sulky because, as much as I hated it, he was right.

Ugh. He knew me too well.

Charlie laughed and stood to put his plate in the over-burdened sink before making his escape to the living room where the Mariner's game was about to begin on TV.

Jacob seemed satisfied that I was through attacking him and released my hands so they fell limply in my lap. He turned his chair to face mine, and déjà vu struck. Just a couple of days ago, we'd sat in these exact places, and the corresponding memory made me blush.

He read my expression knowingly, a grin pulling at his lips. "That was something, wasn't it?"

He leaned forward—I imagnined in in anticipation of some sort of repeat—and I evasively leaned back in my chair. "Don't," I murmured, trying to recall my previous anger and only managing weak irritation.

"What?"

"I'm mad at you."

"No, you're not." He was confident about this, and rightfully so.

I looked away. "Well, I _was_."

His sigh was heavy. "I'm sorry, Bells. I should have called."

"Yes, you should have."

The groan of chair legs scraping against the floor was a precursor to the warmth that began to envelope me as Jacob scooted closer. "I didn't mean to make you worry," he said quietly. "But you had to know that nothing was going to happen when there are five of us and only one bloodsucker."

"But I didn't know," I whispered harshly, very much aware that Charlie was only a room away. "Sam told me that you had to split up, and I know that you underestimate what Victoria is capable of. I've seen what her kind can do. Trust me."

An involuntary shiver shook me, as the iciness of the scar on my palm burned in retaliation of the memory. In an instant, one of Jacob's large hands engulfed both of my own, and the other palmed the side of my face. His touch was soothing.

"When it comes to the bloodsucker, you're the only one I'm worried about. We can hold our own, but you…" His thumb traced a lazy circle around my eye, "You're completely defenseless."

So she was still out there then. Once again Victoria had evaded the pack.

He leaned back slightly, but kept my hands in his. "And you gallivanting off into the woods didn't help anything." The intensity of our conversation vanished with Jake's half-irritated, half-amused smile. "You hate hiking!"

"I wasn't hiking; I was going to help you."

He snorted. "What were you gonna do? Stumble around as the embodiment of the vampire 'bat signal' until you tripped face-first into a puddle and drowned? Real helpful."

"At least then you wouldn't have to worry about Victoria anymore." I meant it to be teasing, but the words came out sounding half serious.

Jacob frowned and cocked his head to stare at me thoughtfully. His brown eyes, which always saw so much, seemed to peer straight into my soul, and I fought the urge to turn away and hide the damage I didn't want him to see.

"That's not why you went out into the woods, is it?" His amusement was forced, stilted over genuine concern.

"What do you mean?" I asked evasively, but it was a wasted effort because he was Jake and I was me.

"Don't tell me you went out there to 'sacrifice' yourself?" he asked, his disgust and disbelief both painfully obvious now.

I looked down at the table. "No," I said slowly, doing my best to be honest, "that wasn't my intent. But if it did come down to it…."

"It won't!" Jacob growled, and I was worried that Charlie would come to investigate. "Bella," he pleaded more quietly, "you have to promise me you'll never do that, never even think it!"

I stared, completely entranced by the intensity of his dark eyes as it pulsated and smoldered, burning with a werewolf's heat—a fire that's fierce, animalistic, and more and more recognizable. A corresponding wave of rippling skin and muscle traveled up his chest and over his shoulders in anticipation of the inner beast's release, but Jacob was stronger—the man was stronger—and the convulsing was fought off casually, an afterthought in the wake of his purely human indignation.

He shook my shoulders. "Promise!"

"I-I promise, Jake," I agreed quietly, still distracted—fascinated—by his ferocity.

"Just let us take care of it." He relaxed marginally into the kitchen chair, the fire relenting and eventually receding from his eyes. I watched curiously as he appeared to silently consider something before standing and walking to the living room entrance.

"Hey, Charlie, would it be cool if I came over here after school tomorrow to work on some homework with Bella?"

I snorted. Fat chance. Like Charlie would allow Jacob and I to be alone for hours now that we were "together." Whatever that meant.

"Sure." He didn't even look up from the television.

I balked. Where was the unreasonably controlling Charlie who stood in the corner with binoculars and a stopwatch whenever Edward was over? Surely this was not the same man.

Jacob sauntered back over to my side with a victorious smile. He leaned down, gave me a fleeting kiss, and winked. "I hope you choke. Bye, Bells."

I sat at the table staring after him in disbelief—that he could so masterfully exploit my father's affection for him, that I let him get away with it—for several seconds, until my senses returned enough for me to stand. The movement caused a shiver to shoot down my spine, and I absently reached my fingers up to rub at the skin where Jacob's trembling hands had grasped my shoulders just moments before. I couldn't help but silently wonder at how the pale flesh was suddenly ice-cold to the touch.

* * *

That night I dreamed. Not the usual abandonment scenario I was used to facing—though this felt just as real and inescapable.

There was a fire, a large bonfire, in the middle of a field, and we—me and several other stoic figures I didn't recognize—were all standing around it waiting. Just waiting. I wasn't sure exactly _what_ we were waiting for, but it was important, and I would unquestionably stand there forever if that's how long it took for it get there.

No one talked, no one moved. The night was silent, but I could _feel_ the energy in the air, a strong, lulling force that excited and soothed me all at once. I knew without any hesitation that this strange, intangible power came from both within me and from the people around me. We were resonating.

I hadn't even blinked, but suddenly there two additional figures in the field, one kneeling and one standing, inside of our loose circle around the fire. The glare from the flames obstructed the face of the figure that stood, but I could make out the calm features of the woman kneeling at his feet.

The man rose what I belatedly recognized to be a small knife and drug it across the open palm of his right hand, cutting into the flesh and leaving a growing trail of blood to leak plentifully over his skin.

I wanted to gag, flinch, sink to the ground, pass out, anything! But my body refused to react and just remained motionless where it stood, seemingly out of my control. The anxiety continued to flood my system as the shadowed figure clenched his wounded hand into a fist, blood oozing from the sides to drip down his arm. Then without a word he relaxed his hand, drew it back, and slapped it forcefully across the face of the woman at his feet. Her head whipped to the side with an audible crack, and the angry red hand print smeared across her cheek shone in the firelight.

I woke up but didn't have the air to scream.

* * *

**AN:** I know it's short. But chapter six is short too, so I might post that later today or tomorrow...if anybody is even reading this. lol. ;)


	6. Together

**Zenith**

_Chapter Six – Together_

_

* * *

  
_

The next day after school, I came home to find Jacob sprawled from end to end of my couch, pre-calculus textbook unopened on the coffee table next to him. He was adorable really, sprawled on his stomach with his feet sticking off one end and an arm dangling to the floor. Not seeing him bustling around, teaming with energy was a rarity, and as I watched the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his body I couldn't help but be overwhelmed with the humanity of it. Sleeping was so perfectly natural for him…and for me—for us.

Edward never slept.

When I had first learned that Edward had been sneaking into my room at night to watch me sleep, I had been baffled and more than a little embarrassed. What could possibly be more tedious—and more mortifying—than watching me drool on my pillow for eight hours? His reassurances that listening to me talk in my sleep was much more than enough to keep him entertained only added to my humiliation. But I wasn't about to fight him on it if it meant I got spend every night in Edward's arms, so I just wrote it off as one his vampire quirks.

But another long look at Jacob's slumbering figure had me feeling that I was at least beginning to understand Edward's fascination. There was a comfort to be found in knowing Jacob could reach a state of undisturbed peace and tranquility when his waking life had anything but. Then there was the vulnerability, which served as an invaluable reminder that Jacob wasn't as nearly as invincible as he liked to pretend he was. His life was just as fragile as my own and infinitely more precious.

Recalling last night's disconcerting dream and the countless nightmares I'd experienced since Edward had left, I found myself envying Jacob's apparently serene slumber.

For a few brief moments I deliberated over whether or not to wake him—there was a plan for studying after all—before deciding he deserved his rest. However, I couldn't _not_ touch him when he was looking so darn irresistible, so I quietly kneeled by his side and brushed unruly hair from his face.

He'd have to cut it soon; it was starting to get shaggy. But I preferred it this way to the short, almost buzz cut that the rest of the pack sported. Jacob had such beautiful hair—I liked being able to run my fingers through it.

"Feels good."

The mumbled words almost made me jump. "I thought you were asleep."

"Was," he continued unintelligibly, eyes still closed

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." I backed away to give him room to sit up, but his arm snagged my waist before I could get too far. "We don't have to study. You can go back to sleep," I offered though I hoped he wouldn't. The memories of Edward I'd unwittingly drudged up had left me feeling noticeably empty, and I didn't want to be alone.

"M'kay."

With a roll of his body, he pulled me up onto the couch next to him so that we were lying side by side, his arms wrapped around my back. I laughed into his chest. "That's not exactly what I had in mind."

"Do you?"

"What?"

"Mind?"

I sighed contentedly and wriggled my own arms out from where they were pinned between our bodies to wrap around his broad chest—secretly relieved that his embrace was warmer and more forgiving than the icy hold I usually craved. "Of course not. You smell good." It was true. Jacob almost always smelled like the great outdoors: pine, fresh earth, and ocean—sometimes with a hint of grease from the garage.

Of course my body was much too aware of his at the moment for me to have any hopes of a decent nap, so I asked the question that had been plaguing me for the last several days. "Jake?"

"Hn."

My fingers twisted into the hair at the nape of his neck, an outlet for my anxiety. His body tensed in response.

"We're…together, right?" I resorted to Charlie's vague phrasing from the previous night. "I mean, you and I have always been together," I continued, and it was odd because it really did feel like Jacob and I had always been a part of each other's lives, though in actuality it was only a couple of months ago that our seemingly unbreakable bond was formed, "but now we're more." I looked to him for confirmation, nervous that I was expecting—wanting—too much when he had selflessly given me so much already.

Jacob watched me with hooded, warm chocolate eyes just inches from my own, and I was so distracted with memorizing all of the different shades of brown that for a moment I forgot I'd asked a question at all.

"Bella, I'll be whatever you want," he assured me quietly.

I nodded, selfishly relieved by his blatant sincerity, even though I was so undeserving of his unconditional devotion. "This is what I want." I tightened my hold on his neck. "I _need_ you, Jacob."

There was no doubting it now.

Jacob saw my conviction—like he saw everything about me—and his lips pulled up in a sleepy half smile that made my toes curl in pleasure. His hands slid up beneath my t-shirt to press into the small of my back, soothing and electrifying me all at once. I shivered despite the heat of his skin against mine.

Well, that was all the encouragement I needed. As my fingers traveled higher to run through the silk of his hair, my lips found the exposed skin where his neck met the curve of his shoulder. His breath hitched, and I could tell all remnants of sleep were quickly fading.

Though our bodies were already impossibly close, it wasn't enough, and I pressed the length of my body against his, forcing him against the back of the couch, as his hands slid higher along the skin of my back. Trying to find a more practical position, I swung my leg over his, but as soon as I started to roll us over, Jacob was pulling away.

His breathing wasn't nearly as frantic as mine, but his eyes were intense and darker than I'd ever seen them. I leaned forward in search of a kiss, but no sooner had our lips touched, he was sitting up, tugging me along with him. I pouted in disappointment.

"We should go to the store," he said thoughtfully.

"What?" I asked, baffled.

"There's nothing in this place to eat. When's the last time you went grocery shopping?"

He was right. The last couple of days, I'd been scraping together Charlie's meals from canned goods and frozen fish. But why bring it up now?

I resisted the urge to groan in frustration. Instead I shrugged. "Charlie loves fish."

With my arms around his neck, I leaned down to pick up where we'd left off.

But he was having none of it. With one fluid motion, he slid me off his lap, stood, took my hand, and pulled me towards the door. "I'll drive," he said, and it wasn't an offer.

Though I resented his poorly disguised effort to not let us get too carried away—and I told him as much—my sulky demeanor diminished in the short drive to the only sizable shopping center in Forks. Jacob let me choose the radio station, and despite my best efforts to annoy him with the girliest song I could find playing—an early ninety's pop hit—he wasn't bothered. In fact, he simply turned up the volume and began belting the lyrics himself.

We pulled into a parking spot under the intense scrutiny of the few milling patrons, high-pitch 'la-la's and 'oh-oh's shamelessly blaring through the Rabbit's open windows. I couldn't help giggling quietly when Jacob came around to the passenger door and took my hand in his. He was dutifully finishing the song—painfully off key—as we crossed the lot to the automatic doors.

When we passed by a startled Mrs. Newton, I offered a sheepish wave. "Hey, Mrs. Newton. See you tomorrow at work?"

Her answering nod and wave were hesitant, her expression startled. She probably thought I was under the influence of some sort of illegal substance, and I couldn't fault her for coming to such a conclusion. I hadn't smiled or laughed this freely in months. Such an abrupt turnaround must be incomprehensible to her, though it wasn't such a mystery to me.

I tightened my hold on Jacob's hand, and he swung our entwined fingers gently in response.

No. Not a mystery at all.

We took our time wandering down the aisles, tossing an item into the bulky, plastic shopping basket whenever the inclination struck, which was more often than not. They say you shouldn't go shopping for food when you're hungry because you'll get more than you really need, but what they should really warn you against is shopping with a hungry werewolf; I ended up with twice my usual haul.

At the far end of the store there was a single aisle dedicated to camping and various other outdoors supplies. A shinny section of specialized knives had caught Jacob's attention, and as he perused through the assortment, I drifted aimlessly away, mentally comparing the prices of safety helmets here to those at Newton's. I wasn't surprised to find that they were cheaper here—most things were.

My eyes flitted over a few other sporting goods, before landing on a plastic-encased baseball bat. It was a common enough item, and I should have just continued my mindless exploration, or at the very most thought about Charlie's bat in the closet at home. I should have. But I didn't.

Instead, a sprawling clearing came to mind and a baseball moving too quickly to be seen by the naked eye. The crack of the ball being smacked into the overcast sky with the expert swing of a bat. The playful competition. The speed and grace of seven figures. The family. I saw it all.

My chest began to ache.

I quickly turned on my heel, intent on putting the images out of mind, and made it back to where Jacob was kneeling down inspecting two knives in particular.

A muffled laugh and quiet whisper caught me attention, and I looked up to see that we were no longer alone. Two girls stood a short way down the aisle, leaning towards each other while talking under their breaths. From the way they kept shooting glances in our direction, I got the sneaking suspicion that neither one was truly interested in the roll of fishing line they were scrutinizing so carefully.

One girl, the one I recognized as a junior from school, said something that made the other smile and flush pink.

I groaned in realization.

"Ya know, Bells." Jacob looked up at me with amused tolerance. "One carving knife isn't just like all the others. You wouldn't have rushed Michelangelo when he was picking out which paintbrush to use on the Sistine Chapel."

"No, it's not that," I assured him. "It's just…"

I considered just making a jab at how he'd compared himself to a world-renowned artist because the truth—that Brittney and Jamie Lynn over there undressing him with their eyes bothered me—was a little embarrassing. Ultimately my irritation won out over my humiliation.

"You're being ogled." I jerked my head to where the girls stood grinning on the other side of him just a few yards away. He didn't follow my gesture but raised an eyebrow in question.

I had grown accustomed to people staring at Edward, women especially. And while I didn't like it, I realized that it wasn't really their fault he was so unnaturally beautiful and alluring, when I myself had fallen victim to his charms. But this was Jacob, and he was so _human_. His dark skin, the powerful definition of his arms bared by his warn red T-shirt, the sharp angles of his face, and the way his dark blue jeans hugged the noticeable musculature of his long legs as he crouched on the balls of his feet were all human traits without supernatural magnetism. They didn't have an excuse to stare at him.

I frowned at the unfamiliar emotion that began to gnaw at my chest.

Oblivious to my discomfort, Jacob grinned like a maniac and rose to his feet. "They still watching?"

My jaw dropped before I forced it closed with a resounding snap of my teeth. Could he be more of a guy?

"Yes, and they're both very pretty," I whispered sourly, masking the hurt I felt with anger. "I'm sure that if you asked for their numbers you…"

The feel of Jacob's hand sliding into my back pocket cut my scathing remark short.

"What are you…?"

He pulled me against his chest, ran his free hand along the side of my face, and then kissed me with an aching gentleness.

The tension fled my body only to be replaced with something much warmer and much pleasanter. The kiss was slow and sweet, not bearing the force or raging fire I had experienced earlier at the house. It was more like a declaration, like saying 'I love you' without words. Not an outlet for passion, but a conductor for something deep and thoughtful. It was heavenly.

He pulled away slightly to place a fleeting kiss on my temple, and then, without removing his hand from my back pocket, began to guide me down the aisle. I scrambled to collect my incoherent thoughts quickly enough to order my feet to move, and I impulsively snagged one of his belt loops with my finger, letting him anchor me to the reality of the blissful moment.

I barely spared a glance at the two girls who were now staring red-faced at the ground as we passed them on our way to the register.

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**AN:** Chapters 5 and 6 were originally one chapter, which is why they are so short and why I'm posting them so close together. I want to give a huge THANK YOU to those of you who took the time to leave me a little bit of feedback. I'm very grateful. :)


	7. Job Hazard

**Zenith**

_Chapter Seven – Job Hazard_

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As the rest of the week continued, I could feel a new routine forming: after school, I would come home to Jacob sleeping on my couch, and we'd spend the entire evening together getting homework done, watching a movie, or simply talking—nothing that Charlie would disapprove of, much to my own displeasure. On days that I worked, I would head over to La Push after I got off and sit in the Rabbit as Jacob tinkered with its engine or fine-tuned the bikes. Charlie never really complained when I wouldn't get home until eleven o'clock on those nights—he was still feeling smug.

Really it was almost the same routine we'd had before we were more than friends. That would probably bother most new couples, but it suited me just fine, because that's what Jacob and I enjoyed doing together, and there wasn't a point in forcing ourselves to change our habits just for the sake of change. Our relationship didn't need that kind of confirmation, that clear change in behavior, most other couples our age relied on to establish the escalation of a relationship. We'd always been close; now we were just closer.

That's not to say there weren't differences.

I had always been appreciative of Jacob's mechanical genius, but now, as I watched him work bent over the hood, my awe was more directed at the fluidity of his movements, the tightening and relaxing of the muscles in his back, and just how good he was with his hands. With my knees bent and head resting atop my folded arms, I marveled at the serene focus that overcame him every time he picked up a tool or part and the pleased nod he gave when something worked the way it should; he was so beautiful when he was in his element.

Then of course there were the physical changes.

Being with Jacob as a friend had been second nature to me, and I found being his girlfriend—a title chosen more for its practicality than definition—was almost just as effortless. Our feelings hadn't changed—Jacob was still _in_ love with me, and I still loved him—only the openness in which we shared them had grown. We still held hands, but sometimes we walked with our arms wrapped around each other's waists. We still hugged, but sometimes he'd kiss my hair and stroke my back. We still teased, but most of the time we flirted shamelessly. We still spent afternoons in the garage, but sometimes we got distracted.

That Friday I found myself to be an active participant in the garage rather than filling my usual role as supportive spectator. Jacob had backed the Rabbit inside until it slowly crept up the small ramps he'd carefully put in place, so that the tires sat about a foot from the ground atop big cement blocks with wood wedged underneath to keep the wheels in place. It looked like a precarious position at best, so when Jacob asked me to crawl under and give him a hand, I naturally refused.

"Oh, come on, Bells. It's safe. Well, maybe not so much once you're under here with me, but I promise not to let you hurt the car too badly."

I was still hesitant. "Really I wouldn't be much help anyway." I prodded his half-visible leg with my toes. "Besides, I like the view from out here just fine." Flirting tended to win him over.

"I promise it's even better up close." A shiver danced across my skin as his voice, which was thick with insinuation, caused a temporary abnormality in my thought process.

"Er…if you're sure."

"I am."

I got on my knees, rolled onto my back, shimmied my way beneath car, and tried not to focus on the thousands of pounds of steel poised to come crashing down on top of me. Instead I turned my attention to Jacob who had his hands stuck up in the underbody. He turned to grin at me.

"Okay, Bella, this is the…"

For the next five minutes I received a tutorial on the part we would be fixing and how it worked in coordination with another system to keep the car running smoothly. There was lots of technical jargon, though I was pretty sure he did his best to dumb it down for me. I dutifully nodded and followed his grease-stained fingers as he pointed out this and that and different nuts and bolts, but by the time he was finished my head was swimming.

"You got that?"

I tilted my head and eyed the car above me warily. "Those are connected to the breaks right?"

Jacob's laugh was so loud I almost jerked upward in surprise. His chuckles quickly diminished into a sigh. "Rome wasn't built in a day," he mused with a smile.

"Sorry. I tried to follow you," I promised him. "I really did."

He waved his hand, dismissing my apology. "Nah, it's cool. Guess I'll just have to entrust you with the sacred task of flashlight holding."

I sighed in relief. A flashlight I could handle.

"Thank you," I murmured gratefully and leaned over to give him a swift kiss.

"Sure. Sure."

He silently worked and I dutifully pointed the flashlight wherever he requested, never failing to give a nod of acknowledgement whenever he pointed out something he thought I should know or find interesting. Intuition told me that this was just the start of some well-formulated plan by Jacob to make me car savvy or at least not completely car handicap.

I didn't bother telling him that the reason I liked spending time in the garage was to watch him; the cars and bikes were just a means to an end. He could have been knitting, and I would have enjoyed watching him, as long as he had a passion for it.

The coolness of the ground was beginning to seep past the barrier of my clothes and sink into my skin. I scooted closer to Jacob's side, readjusting my hold on the flashlight so it still shone in the right spot.

Outside rain began to pour. Jake was humming disjointedly under his breath, the sound soothing and calming me. I sighed in contentment.

But the peacefulness only reminded me of things that could take it all away, and reluctantly I found the conversation I had with Sam earlier in the week coming to the forefront of my mind.

There really wasn't a delicate way of addressing the issue. I was still very much in the dark when it come to all things werewolf, not that that Jacob had made a point of keeping secrets or withholding information; I had just never asked. This was due more to my own insecurities than anything else. The guys were all so close, and I was still the girl who'd dated a vampire. But then, what was it that Renee would always tell me? "You'll never know if you never ask."

"Jake, would you ever change into a wolf and then decide not to change back?"

"Not change back?" He sounded confused.

I nodded against his shoulder. "For a really long time. Weeks. Months."

He made a face but continued to work as he responded. "No. Why wouldn't I change back?"

That's what I wanted to understand. "I don't know."

I needed Jacob to deny everything Sam had said. He couldn't leave me to my dull human existence, not like Edward had. So I prodded for his reassurances. "Wouldn't you be stronger, if you, you know, didn't phase back all the time? You could just act on instinct, or maybe have more control…or something…"

He placed his tools on the ground and turned his head to face me. "What are you going on about?"

I sighed. The question seemed so silly now. "Do you ever wish you could be all wolf, so you don't have to worry about human…weaknesses?"

The puzzled wrinkle of his brow smoothed out, and his eyes narrowed. "Is this about what Sam told you? Cause, you know that's a complete load of sh—"

"What's an imprint?"

He fell silent immediately, his body tensed.

"Jake?"

"Jacob! Hey, man, we're meeting up before heading over to Emily and Sam's to chow down. I think…oh, I didn't know you had company," came a sly voice. "I certainly hope that's Bella and not some other random chick you've got under there."

"Yeah, Embry, it's me." I scooted out from under the car, slightly disappointed that my curiosity had not been satiated. Embry pulled me to my feet with ease. It took several moments for Jacob to follow suite.

"So like I was saying," Embry continued once we were both standing, "Sam's called a meeting. And afterwards it's cookout time werewolf style!"

I took this as my cue to become scarce. I turned to Jacob and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Jacob frowned. "You're leaving?"

Before I could say yes, Embry laid a warm hand on my shoulder. "You should stay for dinner. I'm sure Emily and Kim could use the extra help in the kitchen. Jacob says you're a master chef."

I quickly weighed the pros and cons of the idea and decided that my presence wouldn't be entirely welcomed. "I don't want to intrude."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "You wont be. Everyone's been dying to see you again."

I doubted that but still attempted to sound casual. "Really? Because I don't think Sam's my biggest fan."

"Well, you certainly hit that nail on the head," Embry commented the same time Jacob said, "That's not true."

Jacob glared at Embry. "It's not you that Sam has a problem with, it's me. And he can just get over it. You're going."

Not wanting to argue the point any farther, I nodded in consent and allowed myself to be led out to my truck. We all piled inside—Embry in the back—and made the short trip to Sam's house. As I parked, I spied an unfamiliar girl walking in the front door. Even through the rain, there was no mistaking the dark hair and skin; she was Quilluete, but I'd never seen her in all the time I had spent on the Reservation. Slowly I recalled the unfamiliar name Embry had used back at the garage.

"Is that Kim?"

"Yeah." Jacob nodded and started towards the house my hand safely tucked in his.

"Who is she?"

Embry silently appeared at my left. "She's Jared's—"

"Girlfriend," Jacob cut him off just as we swept inside the house without knocking.

The little wooden house was more familiar this time, and I was still amazed that so many bodies could fit into such a small space. Emily was at her natural spot in front of the stove, a stirring spoon in one hand and potholder in the other. Sam was at her side, whispering a conversation into her ear over the din created by the boisterous conversation shared amongst Jared, Paul, Kim, and now Embry.

As Jacob and I entered, Emily turned, and the unblemished half of her face lifted with a small smile. "Hello, Jacob. Bella. It's been a while since I've seen you two."

My heart sped up as she referred to Jacob and I as a single unit, a package deal, and I was reminded that this was our first real public appearance as a couple. My heart rate accelerated even more, this time from nerves rather than pleasure.

"I've missed spending time with you," I told her honestly. During my week-long stint in La Push, Emily's home had been my getaway when I couldn't stand being stuck alone in Jacob's house or when First Beach got just a little too familiar. She was so quiet and methodical that I didn't have to bother to pretend to be happy, and she mostly left me to my own devices, as she went about cleaning and gardening.

Sam didn't look at either Jacob or I but at the far wall, a frown twisting his lips. I pretended not to notice. Let him sulk.

"Hi, I'm Kim. It's great to actually meet the woman behind the legend." The girl rose from her seat at the kitchen table and offered me the hand that wasn't caught in Jared's affectionate grasp. I accepted the gesture with a smile. She was confident but seemed easygoing. I liked her almost immediately. "I've heard quite a bit about you these last few days, probably more than you'd be comfortable with me knowing."

"They're not exactly big on secrets, or privacy for that matter, are they?" I shot Jacob a reproachful look.

He just shrugged and smiled. "Job hazard, Honey."

"Speaking of jobs, can't we get this meeting going, so we can get back here and eat?" Paul grumbled from where he and Embry sat at the kitchen table, staring longingly at the boiling pots Emily was tending.

The question seemed to snap Sam out of his funk, and the crease in his brow smoothed into his usual serene expression. "Yeah, let's go."

A twist of dread tightened in my stomach as he leaned down to give Emily an affectionate goodbye kiss. Their undeniable adoration for one another always left me feeling comparatively empty and purposeless. It was painfully obvious that those two lived for each other.

But as Jacob's strong hands glided up my neck and face, I was reminded that I didn't have to endure the pain alone anymore. I took a calming breath and leaned my cheek into his soothing touch, letting the pleasant warmth run its course across me skin. He touched his forehead to mine. "We'll be back in an hour," he murmured against my lips before kissing me fleetingly.

As we parted, Paul groaned loudly. "You've got to be kidding me."

Embry's answering smile was victorious. "Ha! I told you he wasn't just fantasizing. Now, pay up, man!"

Paul dug a wadded up ball of one-dollar bills from his pocket and tossed it onto the table top with a look of disgust. I looked to Jacob for an explanation, but he just rolled his eyes and said, "Kids will be kids." The comment earned a glare from Paul, but Embry was too busy counting out his winnings to be bothered.

Jacob gave my hand one last squeeze before heading out after Sam and Jared. Embry and Paul were slower to follow. "Fine," Paul grumbled as he stood, "but I've got ten on it not lasting a month."

Embry eyed me and then the money in his hands. "I'll take that bet."

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**AN:** Silly boys. :) Thank you so much to all of you who reviewed last chapter. That was win.


	8. Fever

**Zenith**

_Chapter Eight – Fever_

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After Paul and Embry made their exit, I was left alone in the small kitchen with two women whom in actuality I knew very little about. Yet as I stirred an industrial size batch of spaghetti sauce and listened to Kim's constant witty chatter and Emily's quiet, but insightful comments, I found myself easily joining in on the flowing conversation which touched on everything from the poor selection of hair care products at the La Push convenience store to the numerous drawbacks of dating a werewolf.

"It's just makes me think twice, you know? It's one thing to tell Jared all of my deep, dark secrets, but it's another thing entirely for a whole pack of hormonal teenage boys to know about my most private thoughts and embarrassing moments," Kim said as she forced another loaf of garlic bread into the oven.

Emily nodded but didn't look up from the vegetables she was cutting. "It is difficult not having as much privacy, but you just have to trust that Jared will do his best not to think about anything too personal while he's with the pack. And give the others some credit. They know how hard it is, and they do their best to get along without intruding."

Kim didn't look convinced. "I guess my only hope is that Jared doesn't think of me half as often as Jacob is thinking about you, Bella."

I turned towards her sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Kim said with a small smile, "that even when Jacob's in his wolf form, you're always on his mind and therefore everybody else's. Jared whines about it all the time." She rolled her eyes in exasperation, but there was a fondness in her voice whenever she mentioned Jared's name.

Heat rose in my cheeks. The hand stirring the sauce clutched at the wooden spoon more tightly. "I don't know what he could possibly be thinking about. I'm not that interesting."

The wide smile on Kim's face told me I didn't really want to know the answer, and I was saved from any further embarrassment by a knocking at the front door. Emily rinsed her hands and gave both me and Kim a meaningful look before exiting the kitchen. Kim sighed heavily. She caught my questioning look and mouthed the name 'Leah.'

The room suddenly felt five degrees cooler, and I shivered in my seat. Listening intently I could hear the creak of the front door opening and the brief conversation that followed.

"I'm glad you could make it." Emily's voice was warm and sincere, a stark contrast to Leah's worn, flat response.

"Sorry I'm late. I had to clean all of the pans by hand. Washer's broken."

"You're just on time. Everyone will be arriving in a few minutes."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed.

There was a light 'bang' as the screen door smacked closed into the wooden door frame, and a tense Emily and Leah appeared through the kitchen entryway.

Kim smiled welcomingly. "Hey, Leah." She got only a short nod in response.

Leah's tired eyes darted quickly around the room moving from the table, to the stove, to the floor, to the trashcan, and back to the table, never looking at any of us directly and very much resembling a frightened, caged animal. As least she was moving, I noted drearily. It was an improvement from the last time I saw her.

There was something else different about her—aside from the tangled mess of her hair and the short, chipped state of her fingernails—that I couldn't quite place.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I offered my hand to her. She stared down at it as if it were a poisonous snake waiting to strike and spared it only a brief, hesitant shake before locking her hands firmly behind her back. The eerie tingle was gone, but the coldness of her touch was still notable.

"Bella Swan," I reminded her.

She continued to watch the boiling pots on the stove. "I know."

Unsure of what to say after that, I was grateful when Kim started her chatter up once again, though this time less enthusiastically. Leah never spoke, but just stood looking uncomfortable in the middle of the kitchen. She remained a good three steps away from where Emily worked over the stove top, the physical distance speaking to some sort of alienation in their relationship. And whether it was an unconscious act or not, Leah's body leaned forward towards Emily, as if she subconsciously desired close the gap. I wondered how they knew each other.

Sam had mentioned something about Leah the afternoon he'd encountered me in woods while on Victoria's trail, but I hadn't given it any consideration past a fleeting thought. He'd given me so much more to think over that afternoon.

But after spending the next several minutes watching the odd interaction between the two women, my curiosity was peeked, and the moment Jacob and the other guys were through the door I pounced.

I pulled Jacob into the corner of the room, so that we were on the fringe of all of the activity as massive bodies battled for prime position around the kitchen table.

"What's the story with Leah and Emily?" I whispered, though with all the shouting and laughing going on around us it was hardly necessary.

"Huh?" Jacob's eyes were not focused on me but fixed longingly over my shoulder at the buffet-style dinner. Getting his undivided attention was going to be an uphill battle.

I reached up and ran my fingers through the short, silky strands of hair at the base of his neck and pressed my body against his side. His eyes shot back to mine, and I smiled sweetly.

"Leah and Emily. What's the deal?"

He stared down at me, distracted for a moment before answering. "They're cousins, but they were always like sisters, ya know?"`

"Were?" I asked, and I fought to keep my voice from shaking as Jacob's hands suddenly found an interest in tracing the sensitive skin of my neck and collarbone.

"Leah and Sam dated for a really long time before he ever met Emily. They were crazy about each other and even talked about getting engaged once Leah graduated, but…"

He slid a finger along the neckline of my blouse, causing me to swallow thickly. "But," I urged.

He sighed and his hands fell away to rest at his sides. "He met Emily, fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on her and proposed eight months later."

I gaped up at him. "Just like that?" It didn't sound very plausible, or very Sam-like for that matter. "How could he do that to Leah?" I was well acquainted with the hallowing pain of losing the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with, but to lose him to your best friend? Leah must have been devastated.

"He can't help the way he feels," Jacob said sharply, and I realized he was actually defending Sam's actions.

"And Emily? If Leah is…was like a sister to her, how did she...?" It was hard to imagine sweet, loving Emily doing anything quite so perfidious.

"It's not Emily's fault!"

I looked to see if anyone was paying any attention to our hushed conversation, which was quickly escalating past whispers, but everyone was engrossed in the meal—or was at least pretending to be. No one even spared us a glance. Well, that was fine by me.

"I'm not blaming anyone. I'm just trying to understand how one minute you can be completely devoted to one person and the next you're proposing to someone else."

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. I recognized this defensive position easily. Every time Jacob decided to be a stubborn ass he crossed his arms like that: left over right, right hand on left forearm, left hand tucked under.

"Bella, it's not that simple."

"You mean there's more," I said sternly. "You're not telling me something. A big something. Something to do with imprinting." I was grasping at straws, but it felt as if I had all the pieces and just didn't know how to put them together to form the big picture.

He looked away, the muscles in his neck tensing and relaxing as he swallowed hard. "You wouldn't understand."

My eyes narrowed. "You're right, because anything too supernatural or absurd might just go over my head."

"Man, Jacob, if you don't get over here now, I can't promise there's going to be anything left," Embry called from the table, spaghetti noodles dangling from his mouth.

"Don't you know, Embry," Paul sang in a falsetto while batting his eyelashes, "Jake lives off love, sunshine, and rainbows nowadays."

Jacob rolled his eyes but pushed off from the wall. "Come on, Bella," he said, walking past me.

My jaw clenched. I was so past all these poor attempts at subterfuge.

I turned towards the others, my appetite gone. In a room full of light-hearted camaraderie, my indignant anger alienated me, and suddenly I wanted to be anywhere else. But as much as I would have liked to passionately storm out the front door without glancing back, the others had done nothing to deserve my wrath or rudeness; Emily had been nothing short of a gracious hostess—I forced myself not to see the betrayal Jacob had just told me of.

I made my way over to where she was standing next to Sam with an unusual amount of space separating them—unusual by their touchy, feely standards, anyway.

"Hey, Emily, thank you for letting me spend the evening cooking with you. It was a real privilege; you put my own meager skills to shame." Sure I could make a semi-fancy dinner for two, but she cooked dinner for an entire army and made it look easy.

"You're leaving?" She sounded genuinely disappointed.

I smiled weakly and placed an indicating hand on my stomach. "Don't feel too great."

She frowned. "Well, let Jacob drive you home."

"No!" At her startled expression, I softened my voice. "I mean, no, that won't be necessary. I'll manage." Jacob driving me home would certainly put a damper on the whole dramatic exit I was going for.

"I'll walk you to your car."

I gaped at Leah who had silently appeared at my side looking eager and a little desperate. "Ok," I murmured.

We left, me purposefully not looking at Jacob once, as Leah quickly led the way to the front door

The evening was cold and moist from the afternoon's rain, and I gave myself a good mental scolding for not bringing a jacket—I'd taken to dressing in the fewest layers possible when I knew I'd be spending time with Jacob. Leah on the other hand looked completely relieved, and though she continued to walk with me towards my truck, she kept her distance.

I wondered if she was as weirded out by touching me as I was of touching her. She certainly acted like it.

When we reached the rusty truck door, I didn't get in. Instead I turned to face Leah who was standing a good five feet away, staring into the black tree line. In the dark it was harder to tell that she looked like a complete wreck, making her appear more approachable, less savage. I cleared my throat, but she spoke first.

"He keeps things from you. Doesn't tell you things."

For a moment I thought she was talking to herself; she wasn't looking at me, but was focusing on the truck window just over my left shoulder. She caught my eye only for the briefest of moments, her piecing brown eyes leaving me rooted to the spot.

"That's how it started with Sam, ya know?"

Her rough voice became even more abrasive when she said his name, and I physically hurt for her.

"He disappeared for a week, and I was worried. He came back, and I was relieved." She exhaled sharply and the apathetic look I'd grown accustomed to seeing on her face turned bitter. "But then he was just so angry. Distant. Not just from me, but from everyone. I still loved him, of course. We were meant for each other, and I would have stuck with him through anything…"

The apathy returned as she trailed off. A pained, strangled noise left her lips as she cleared her throat and finally turned her penetrating eyes fully on me. I was unable to suppress the shiver that shot down my spine. "It all started with secrets. It," she motioned to the small house, "destroys you."

A cold, damp breeze rustled the ancient trees surrounding us and blew untamed strands of hair across my face. I didn't move to brush them away.

She held my gaze two heartbeats longer, making sure I understood the warning, before turning on her heel and disappearing down the dark road as silent as the werewolves she seemed to hate.

Nervous and a little freaked out, I stumbled into my truck, struggling to jam the key into the ignition. And even though I knew it was coming, the deafening roar of the engine still managed to startle me, causing me to jump.

"Calm down, Bella," I told myself. "She's just in a bad place. You would be too if your father had just died and the man you thought you were going to marry was engaged to your best friend. Don't let it get to you. She doesn't know about werewolves, doesn't understand…" A humorless, staccato chuckle fell breathlessly from my lips.

Who was I kidding? _I_ didn't even understand what the hell was going on.

Did Leah know about werewolves? No one had ever said anything to the contrary. But then, what secrets was she talking about?

I chewed over this on the drive home, and it stayed in the back of my mind as I went about my evening routine. By the next morning I was resolved in getting some straight answers and set off to Newton's determined to spend the majority of my shift trying to put as least some of the pieces together myself.

Unfortunately Mike wasn't in on my plan.

"Hey, Bella, how was your week?" he asked as soon as I joined him behind the counter to pull on my orange vest. His inquiry wasn't accompanied by his standard encouraging smile, and I could tell that he was still slightly miffed about Jacob.

I shrugged noncommittally, last night's disaster fresh in my mind. "Okay, I guess."

"Trouble with that Jacob guy you're dating?" He sounded a little too hopeful for my liking.

"I'd rather not talk about it. Do we need to restock the flashlights and lanterns?" Without waiting for a response, I headed to the back of the store to take inventory, but even after meticulously counting everything twice and replenishing what was running low, I still had hours to spare before my shift ended. Against my better judgment I ended up back in front helping Mike refilling the display of hiking maps and pamphlets on camp safety.

Every now and then a costumer would come to us with a question, and Mike would answer helpfully or walk them down a certain aisle, making polite conversation about how we've been having such great hiking weather. I wisely remained silent, only directing a couple of people to the bathroom and one older gentleman to the where we kept the pocket warmers.

My relative inactivity left me some to ponder what Jacob had told me last night and cross-reference it with the conversation I had had with Sam a week ago. This information paired with Leah alarming behavior was hardly encouraging, and I found myself hoping that this entire situation just stemmed from some sort of big misunderstanding.

Maybe Leah and Sam broke up because he couldn't tell her about him being a werewolf. Thinking back on the week after Jacob changed, I could definitely imagine that putting a strain on any relationship. But then if Sam couldn't tell Leah, why did Emily know everything? Why didn't Jared have to keep it a secret from Kim? The only reason I knew anything about it, was because Jacob had been resourceful enough to find a why around Sam's order. Was Sam only restricting certain pack members?

It was all very confusing, but I was determined and continued to mull over it as I worked.

Around two o'clock things began to slow down until the only patrons were a few local kids goofing off in the hunting gear section. I took the moment of reprieve to lean against the counter and rub soothing circles against my temples. Deep thinking was dangerous. My brain was fried from trying to figure out the whole Leah/Sam/Emily situation, and I could feel a headache coming on.

"You okay, Bella?"

I offered Mike a smile that felt like a grimace. "Just a headache. It's nothing."

"If you say so." He emptied a roll of pennies into the cash drawer, exhaled loudly, and turned to face me. "So, do you have plans after your shift?"

My knee-jerk reaction was to say 'Yes, I'm meeting up with Jacob.' After all, we were always together, always doing something, but now I wasn't so sure. I had left last night before we'd had the chance to solidify any plans for today, and there was no Saturday routine laid out. This wouldn't have been a problem except for the fact that I was pretty sure that I was still upset, and calling him to see if I could come over probably wouldn't be the best way to communicate that, even if I was incredibly eager to see him.

My afternoon was in limbo.

"No, I don't have any specific plans," I said carefully.

This perked Mike right up. "Really? Well if you want, you can come over to my house later. There's a few of us getting together to watch a Jet Li marathon. Angela, Ben, Tyler, and Lauren will all be there."

Martial arts films weren't really my thing, especially when everyone else who was going were couples and would probably be spending the majority of the time making out with the movie on mute in the background.

"Um…I don't know…" I quickly tried to form a feasible excuse.

"Excuse me, but what's a guy gotta do to get some help around here?"

I sighed, initially thankful for the interruption, and whirled around too quickly when I realized I recognized my savior's voice.

"Jacob?" What was he doing here?

I heard Mike speak up from behind me. "Sorry, I'll be over in just a moment." There was undisguised animosity in his voice.

"Actually I was hopping _she _could help me. I mean, you're cute n' all, but I prefer petite brunettes myself. Especially ones with big brown eyes and nice round…"

I grabbed Jacob by the sleeve and dragged him away from the counter with a scowl.

"What?" he asked innocently, allowing himself to be hauled away when he could have easily resisted. "I was gonna say nice round _ears_. You have incredibly sexy ears."

He raised his free hand to trace the shell of my ear with his finger, and I forced my body not to respond to his warm touch. Closing my eyes, I silently regrouped. "What are you doing here, Jacob?"

His grin diminished slightly at my less than welcoming tone, but he played it off with a shrug. "I came…" He dropped my hand and stepped away from me into the nearest rack of jackets. "…to find a coat. You see, my old one just isn't doing the trick anymore; I'm cold _all_ the time."

Not in the mood to play his game, I crossed my arms over me chest and gave him my best reproachful stare. "Jacob."

"Now, I've always gone for solid colors in the past, but a man's not a man until he's owned a red, black, and green plaid coat." He held up a down jacket that was at least four sizes too small and splayed it out against his chest, frowning when the sleeve stopped just past his elbow.

"Sorry, we don't carry anything in the 'insensitive boyfriend' size."

"What about 'remorseful, insensitive boyfriend'?" And there it was: the infamous kicked puppy dog look. Head bowed, shoulders slumped, lips pursed, eyes wide, Jacob had mastered the art of the adorable, irresistible 'please forgive me' stare that would have made just about anybody feel guilty for making him give an apology. He looked so pathetic you couldn't look at him and _not_ want to pick him up off the street and take him home with you.

Jacob always managed to bring out the dormant animal lover in me. "Maybe," I grumbled, forcing myself to look away from his face.

Knowing he was forgiven, he smiled and walked over so he could wrap his arms around my back and pull me into a tight hug which I returned in relief, just glad to be back on somewhat even ground.

Jacob dropped a kiss on my head, effectively soothing away any lingering resentment. "So when do you get to blow this Popsicle stand?"

"My shift isn't over for another hour and a half," I said sourly, thinking about the time I would have to spend with Mike pouting over Jacob's visit. Ugh.

Jacob pulled away until just his hand rested on my hip and gave me a considering look.

"What?" I asked cautiously.

"It's just…you look a little under the weather."

"Really? I feel fine." Now that we'd made up.

"I don't know," he said sounding skeptical. "I think you're coming down with something." He pressed the back of his hand to my forehead.

"Jake, what are you talking about? I don't feel sick at all—"

"Holy shit! You're burning up!"

I stared at him incredulously. "I am?" At his vigorous nod, I pressed my fingers to my cheek only to feel that my skin was as cool as it always was. "Jake, stop it. I'm fine."

"There's no need to be brave, Bells. You just let me take care of you." One hand on my waist and the other still slapped across my forehead, Jacob dragged me back up to the front where Mike was openly staring at us in confusion. As we came to stop at the counter, I attempted to swipe Jacob's hand from my face, but he just pulled me closer to his side, effectively pinning my arms.

Leaning his broad shoulders over the counter in what I thought was a fairly intimidating stance, Jacob caught Mike's eye. "Look, Nick…it's Nick, right?"

"Mike."

"Mike, right. Well look, Mike, Bella has a temperature, and I just wanted to let you know that I'm gonna run her home."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Mike beat me to it. "She was fine a moment ago," he said suspiciously.

Jacob shrugged, poorly concealing his annoyance. "And now she's not. Just feel her forehead; you could fry an egg on it her fever's so high." He dropped his arm and pushed me forward slightly. I knew exactly what Mike would feel when he touched where Jacob had been pressing his hand for the last minute; my skin would be hot and maybe even a little moist with sweat, but not from any fever.

Mike's fingers felt icy compared to Jacob's fiery touch, and I fought back a flinch as he held the back of his hand to my forehead longer than was necessary to determine that Jacob's stunt had worked. "Wow, you do feel pretty warm, Bella. Maybe you should go see a doctor or something."

"No, she just needs to rest. Like I said, I'll take her home."

I allowed Jacob to pull off my vest and hand it over to Mike, whom I weakly waved at as we exited the store. Once the doors were closed behind I us, I shook my head in amazement. "I can't believe you just did that."

"I can't believe you have to put up with that Mick guy every time you go to work."

"_Mike_ is not that bad, he just…"

"Doesn't know how to take a hint?" Jacob snorted but smiled thoughtfully down at me. "Not that I can blame the guy. I mean, I wouldn't give up on you either."

Feeling the unavoidable blush rising up my cheeks at his blatant sincerity, I bit my lip and quickly turned my head under the pretense of scanning the distant tree line. Jacob chuckled and traced a finger over the flushed skin of my jaw. "Yep, definitely a fever."

With a role of my eyes, I clambered into my truck, but instead of walking around to get in the passenger side like I was expecting him to, Jacob motioned for me to roll down my window—which I accomplished only after a good deal of struggling.

At my inquisitive look, he leaned into the truck, his forearms resting on the window ledge and said, "Actually I drove." He indicated the parked Rabbit with a jerk of his thumb. "I couldn't run because…uh," he cleared his throat before continuing quickly, "Quil changed finally. Early this morning, actually. Sam's being all leadery and trying out a new method where he actually eases him into things. And since having four other guy's thoughts in your head can be a little overwhelming, we're not allowed to phase until Sam 'deems' it ok." He looked resigned and more than a little irritated.

"Oh."

I had to be careful. His alienated relationship with Quil had always been a sore spot for Jacob since his own transformation, another reason to resent the life and responsibilities he'd been forced into. So while it would be a relief that Quil no longer had to be kept in the dark and at arms length, I knew that this was not the life Jacob wanted for his friend. Quil was just another victim to the supernatural blight that ruined lives and stole innocence.

Taking one of Jacob's warm hands in my own, I raised it to my lips and placed gentle kisses across his knuckles. He let out a contented sigh and leaned forward until our foreheads were touching with our hands between us.

"I just," he began quietly, earnestly, "I just want to get rid of Victoria, so that this can all be over, and this," he kissed me gently, "can be my number one priority."

His whispered words stirred the dormant hope within me, and I found myself picturing life after Victoria, a life where I didn't fear the shadows on my wall, where Jacob didn't risk his life day in and day out, where every phone call didn't have me wondering 'what if,' and where my biggest concern was not stumbling over my own feet. It was a beautiful, bittersweet thought.

"Once you're safe," he continued, "and we don't have to worry anymore, it'll just be us, just Jake and Bells." He exhaled deeply, his hot breath skimming across my mouth and nose, causing my skin to tingle. "I promise it's going to happen, Bella."

My nod was barely perceptible as I closed the last inch between us, my lips easily finding his and moving against them with all the eagerness I felt for the future I could now so clearly see.

* * *

AN: It's great to see that some of you are taking an interest in this story. Thank you for the feedback!

I hope you all find the pack as amusing as I do, because we're going to be seeing a lot of them in this story. :D


	9. What if?

**Zenith**

_Chapter Nine – What if?_

* * *

"This was your plan all along, wasn't it?"

Avoiding the puddle of milk on the floor with a wobbly sidestep, I maneuvered over to the stove and rescued the boiling chocolate sauce from Jacob's destructive grasp.

"What was?" he asked innocently, as I turned down the heat while simultaneously scouring the cluttered countertop for a clean spatula.

"To distract me with your horrendous cooking skills, so I'd forget that there are things you're supposed to tell me."

Jacob came up with a big wooden spoon and pressed it into my searching hand. "I don't know about horrendous…" He surveyed my small kitchen-recently-turned-disaster-zone, which was covered in a thick layer of pots, pans, raw ingredients, trash, and spilled batter. "So, I'm a little messy," he said with a shrug. "What really matters is the finished project."

"Here," I said, returning the pot and spoon to his hands after scrapping the sides and mixing thoroughly, "you have to stir the chocolate or it'll burn. And it's not working. I still want to know about imprinting."

His answering smile was amused. "Of course, because I'm not _trying_ to distract you. Believe me, that if I were, we wouldn't be this far apart and you wouldn't be able to think coherently."

I let the insinuation slide; I had bigger fish to fry. "Jacob, imprinting?" There was no way I was letting him wiggle his way out of this one, not again.

"It's nothing really," he said, staring intently at the pot he was stirring, "just a werewolf quirk that Sam likes to make a big deal about."

I bit my tongue to prevent myself from retorting that he seemed to be making an awfully big deal out of nothing, and instead I remained encouragingly silent.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Not knowing where he was going with this, but deciding to humor him anyway, I responded, "No, not really. I mean, strong attraction? Sure. But love requires you to like someone for who they are, and you don't really know a person with just a look."

He nodded as if he agreed, still looking down at the sauce and not at me. "Well imprinting is like 'love at first sight' on steroids."

"I don't follow."

He sighed, and I felt all the weight his cavalier words lacked. His stirring sped up violently.

"Basically, werewolf sees girl, werewolf falls head-over-heels (paws?) in love (infatuation?) with girl, girl inevitably succumbs to werewolf's charm, werewolf and girl live happily ever after oblivious to anyone else but each other and their little werewolf babies (puppies?). Anyway it's all very Disney," he said sourly, and it was clear where he stood on the subject.

"So, Sam," I began because I assumed that was who we were talking about, "saw Emily and…instantly fell in love with her? And he just completely forgot about Leah? And now Sam and Emily are pregnant with puppies?" This was all very confusing and, frankly, pretty absurd. It was hard to take any of it seriously.

With a flick of his fingers, Jacob turned off the burner and spun around so that he was leaning back against the counter. He looked sideways at me before continuing in a more objective tone. "It's a rare werewolf quirk. Emily is Sam's imprint. The moment he met her, he loved her more deeply and purely than anything else. She became his world, and all that matters to him is her happiness. Even though he didn't really know her, he loved her unconditionally."

I carefully thought that over. "He'll feel that way about her forever?"

He nodded. "There's a strict 'no return' policy."

It didn't seem so bad. After witnessing the loving, doting relationship of Emily and Sam first hand, it was hard to condemn anything that brought around such devotion. I envied them, really.

Of course he hadn't explained everything. "What about Leah? Wasn't Sam in love with her?"

Jacob grimaced. "It's complicated."

I scooted closer so our sides were touching and encouragingly took his hand in mine.

"Sam didn't stop loving Leah. He just loved Emily more. The pull he felt towards her was undeniable, so he didn't bother fighting it for long. Like I said, it's a freaky werewolf quirk—"

And then it clicked. The pieces finally fell neatly in place, and the agonizing, unforgiving realization hit me like an icy slap in the face.

Imprinting. A werewolf quirk. Jacob was a werewolf. Jacob could imprint.

Jacob would…

I pulled my hand from his grasp so suddenly he didn't get the chance to resist.

"Bella…"

My feet shuffled backwards once, twice.

"Bells."

Now that I finally had put the puzzle together, I wanted nothing more than to throw it on the floor and watch the pieces become senseless, mystifying clues to a bigger picture I was once again ignorant of. But I supposed that in this case ignorance wasn't bliss, it was a ticking time bomb counting down to the inevitable destruction of my new-found happiness.

Jacob could have the kind love that Emily and Sam shared. Jacob could be truly happy. Without me.

This, this, this was…excruciating.

I was so focused on trying to breathe evenly, that I hardly noticed when I stumbled backwards into the kitchen chairs.

"Bella, listen to me," he commanded urgently, and I pushed away the warm hands that had settled on my shoulders. "Imprinting is _rare_, it won't happen to me—"

"Don't lie to me!" The strangled shriek was hardly recognizable as my own. "I'm sick of being lied to!" I could feel my world coming down around me all over again, as the dread of loneliness began to creep up from the dark place I had banished it to. Jacob was going to leave me.

I would be alone. Edward would have his distractions, Jacob would have his _imprint_—I found myself loathing the word with a passion—and I would be alone. The hole in my chest flared to life with a searing flame. No, I found myself praying, don't take away Jacob too.

"Bella, listen!" He sounded as panicked as I felt, and this time I was unable to shake off his hands from my arms. "It's not going to happen, alright? Most werewolves never even find their imprint!"

My distress peaked. "How do you know, Jake? Huh?" I found myself pleading for the answers he couldn't give, as he stared down at me with pained eyes. "There's someone out there for you! Someone you're _supposed_ to be with." Someone I envied, resented, wanted so badly to hate.

Large, rough hands gently framed my face. "She's right here."

He was begging me to yield, desperate for something I wanted so badly to give him, have with him. My life, it seemed, would forever be a casualty of the supernatural.

"You could find her tomorrow, or the next day, or next week…" I rambled, my mind moving a miles a minute, processing my dismal new fate.

"Or I may never find her."

I shook my head vehemently, still trapped between Jacob's insistent hands. The heat, which usually soothed me, only served to stir up the emotions simmering inside. The tears trailing down my face offered little relief from the raging agony.

"You can't know that," I accused. "Why else would you have avoided telling me?"

His hands fell uselessly back to his sides. "Maybe because I knew you'd react like this?"

Scrubbing at the wetness of my eyes, I scoffed angrily. "You just told me you've got a soul mate wandering around out there somewhere! How else am I supposed to react?"

His answer was a quiet beseeching almost lost beneath the din of my ragged breaths and thundering heart. "You could trust me."

So simple. So Jacob.

"You know," he continued, "We could spend all of our time driving ourselves crazy with 'what if's: What if I imprint? What if you can't love me? What if that red-headed bloodsucker gets through us? What if you'll always love the vampire who left you? But damn it, Bella," he said resolutely, taking a step forward to close the space between us, "if at the end of the day I can see you and hold you, then none of that other stuff matters."

How he could do that, I had no idea. To just take all of the chaos and pain of our lives and write it off as nothing in comparison to the simplicity of us having one another was…astonishing. And a relief.

He wanted me to trust him. I'd been too trusting in the past, and it had ended in heartbreak. But what other choice did I have? I wasn't strong enough to leave him; my need for him ran too deeply, too strongly to be ignored. And while promises meant little to me, Jacob meant the world.

Against my will I found myself slowly succumbing to his passionate reassurances, my body relaxing inch by inch into a barely perceptible trembling until all I felt was an uneasy resignation to the complexities my life always seemed to force me to endure.

He said he wasn't leaving me, and I came to the painful conclusion that that would have to be enough. There really was no other option because people didn't survive without sunlight and air, and I couldn't survive without Jacob Black. So as long as he wanted me…

"Kim." I found myself saying the name that had been sitting on the tip of my tongue since this conversation had started.

Jacob nodded slowly, knowingly. "She's Jared's imprint."

It was hard to swallow, but I forced it down anyway until it settled uneasily in my stomach. "Ok," I said quietly.

Silence stretched over us. I took my time straightening the chairs around the kitchen table then began clearing away the evidence of our cooking escaped—any mindless task that didn't require my complete focus. Jacob's eyes continued to bore into me, as I began to move about the room, and even as he started wiping down the counters, I could see him glancing up at me periodically from the corner of my eye. He was waiting for me to lose my cool again, but I had every intention of disappointing him.

When the oven beeped, I carefully—mechanically—removed the cake, concentrating on not tripping and dropping the hot pan as I carried it back over to the stove. I reached for the chocolate sauce to drizzle over top when Jacob intercepted me with a hand on my wrist.

"I might be new to this whole relationship thing, but I'm pretty sure the silent treatment isn't a good sign." He slowly spun me around to face him, but I resolutely kept my eyes on his chest.

"I'm not giving you the silent treatment." The protest sounded weak even to me.

He tilted my chin up, his fingers lingering against my neck. "So you're walking around in the same room as me, not talking and not making eye contact because, you're so happy that you're speechless?"

"No, I'm not happy, but I'm trying to—"

"Then tell me how I can make you happy?"

I looked up at him questioningly. "What?"

His warm fingertips trailed up over my face and into my hair. "You're unhappy, and I want to change that. Tell me how."

I shook my head and sighed. "Look, Jake, I'm just not in the mood. You did just kind of drop a bomb on me…"

He lowered his head to rest on my shoulder, the motion causing his nose to glide against the column of my throat. I inhaled sharply.

Recollecting myself, I took a breath and tried again. "I'm serious, Jacob."

His journey continued upward, and I could feel his small smile against the skin of my jaw. "No you're not."

"Yes, I am."

His lips ghosted over mine, and before I raised my hand to smack him silly, I remembered the pillow incident and thought better of it. Instead I groped behind me on the counter, snatched the first solid thing I could get a hold of, and swung it around to whack him square in the chest.

It was unfortunate that I didn't actually look at what I'd grabbed before deciding to wield it as a weapon. Quite unfortunate actually.

Jacob took a step back in surprise, looked down at his splattered shirt, and then turned a devilish smile on me. From his expression I quickly surmounted that I was just as—if not more—chocolate covered than either the spoon in my hand or my intended target—the werewolf standing smugly just few away.

"Jeeze, Bells, the chocolate sauce was supposed to go on the _cake_. Do I have to do everything around here?"

The situation was semi-ridiculous, so I couldn't help the small upward twitch of my lips, which I quickly moved to disguise as a pout. "Great, now I have to go shower. I can actually feel it hardening in my hair."

"That's what you get for trying to maim me with a spatula," he snickered.

I rolled my eyes. "Please, it was self defense. You were molesting me."

His grin only grew. "Oh, yeah, and who's going to believe you? The cops? Not when I tell them how you ruthlessly came at me armed with a chocolate spoon in one hand and a mixer in the other, bludgeoning me—the defenseless mechanic—with your exotic culinary torture devices." He contorted his face into a mockery of fear. "Oh, officer, it was terrible! One minute I was just standing here minding my own business when suddenly there was this excruciating pain, and there was chocolate everywhere! I tried to fend her off, but she wouldn't stop attacking me!"

The teasing felt nice. The familiarity of it eased the knots from my stomach, and suddenly it was easier to breathe.

"You forget," I said jabbing the end of the spoon into his ribs, "that I have an in with the Chief of Police. And once he hears whole story, there's no way you're getting off the hook without doing some serious time."

Apparently he decided to switch tactics, and his demeanor tuned from teasing to seductive as he cocked an eyebrow and took a slow, purposeful step forward. "The whole story?" he practically purred, and I took a cautious step back.

"Y-yes."

"Even the part about how you begged me for more?" There was a tangible shift in the playful atmosphere, as Jacob inched towards me, his knees bent and shoulders hunched, looking very much like an animal on the prowl. My heartbeat quickened.

"What are you…I didn't…" Words were suddenly very hard to come by.

"Not yet."

I must have started moving before he even started to pounce. That was the only possible explanation for why I was running from the kitchen looking back over my shoulder at Jacob, who was braced against the kitchen counter staring down in shock at his empty arms. Not willing to risk my escape, I turned my attention to the stairs as I took them two at a time. Jacob's wolf-like growl from behind me only elicited my amused laughter, which he apparently didn't appreciate.

Just as my hand closed around the doorknob to my room—my safe haven—Jacob's large arms caught me around my waist and lifted me backwards into the air.

"Jacob Black," I laughed, wriggling in his arms, "put me down!"

He started walking down the hall, away from my room. "But, Bells," he said innocently, "I thought you wanted to take a shower."

I completely stilled in arms for all of two seconds before violently redoubling my efforts, dragging my hands along the wall trying to find purchase as he slowly sauntered onward.

"You wouldn't!" I glanced nervously at the swiftly approaching bathroom door. "I…I'll scream!"

He cackled—actually cackled—and threw open the door after freeing one of his hands, jostling me considerably in the process. "Go, ahead. No one will hear you."

I was deposited haphazardly in the bathtub, and no sooner had by back end hit the shower mat, Jacob's hand flashed to the nozzle. My eyes widened. "Jacob, don't you dare…"

A tell-tale sputter was the only precursor to the ice cold water that rained down on me from the showerhead. I shrieked and jumped to my feet, except that I moved too quickly over a wet surface and ended up falling sideways. Jacob's swift hands were the only thing that kept my head from being cracked like an egg on the edge of the tub.

He chuckled at my floundering about under the spray of water. "Jeez, Bells, where's the fire?"

"Jacob," I seethed, "Black. Let. Me. Go."

Either my deadly tone or insistent shoving against his chest convinced him to wisely back away, so that I had space to scramble out from beneath the spray of water. I stared down and took in my dripping wet socks, jeans, and shirt before glaring up at Jacob who was watching me smugly.

"You look like a drowned cat," he commented lightly.

"And you," I growled—yeah, he wasn't the only one allowed to do that—threateningly, "look like a dead dog."

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Oh no! The abusive chef returns, except I think you'll find yourself a tad less successful without your chocolate covered spatula's to wield against me."

"Oh, I don't know. I could probably stick the curling iron somewhere painful," I muttered darkly, as I moved to the linen closet to retrieve one of the blue fluffy towels stacked inside. The air against my cold, wet skin was causing me to shiver.

"Here." Jacob reached out to help me with the towel, but I jerked away, my pride getting the better of me. He rolled his eyes, muttered something about me being stubborn, and pulled me into his arms. I made a show of huffing and complaining, but really his body heat was too warm to turn down, and I buried myself deeper into his chest, as he ran the towel over my hair and arms.

I closed my eyes and allowed the sound of his heart beating beneath my ear sooth away the day's worry and tension. It was easier to put things into perspective when I had him here holding me and not wanting to let me go. And while the idea that Jacob may someday lay eyes on the woman he was meant for, a woman he would love more than anything—including me—was utterly terrifying, I knew I would take the chance. Because I _needed_ Jacob. And even if there was someone else out there who could give him her entire heart and the undivided love that he deserved, I was selfish enough to hold onto him until she showed up. As long as he was happy with me, I couldn't bear to be away from him.

"We're going to be okay," I said quietly and found myself starting to believe it.

* * *

**AN:** So, the angst makes an entrance. I have to admit that I'm not fond of imprinting, but the concept brings some great drama to the plot. If only SM had been able to wield it more wisely. *sigh*

Thank you to everyone who keeps leaving me feedback. I love it.


	10. Nightmares

**Zenith**

_Chapter Ten – Nightmares_

* * *

Jacob tried to finish toweling off the rest of me, but I didn't make it easy for him, refusing to loosen my vice-like hold around his torso.

Eventually he relented and tossed the towel onto sink behind us. "Let's get you into some dry clothes, then." This time I didn't struggle when he lifted me from the ground, instead I anchored myself to him by wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. We fit perfectly, naturally—though by now I shouldn't be surprised.

Holding onto him was nothing like holding onto Edward, I noted nostalgically. With Edward I had been a child clinging desperately to a stone, afraid to let go in fear of plummeting from the cliff face and landing in a world that was normal, ordinary. But wrapped around Jacob as I was now, I found that I was holding on just so I could be held in return. His body molded and formed beneath mine; when I pressed my lips to his neck, his skin gave way to the pressure.

I shifted and felt Jacob swallow thickly before entering the hallway and making his way to my room. Reluctantly he released me in front of the closet. I grabbed a pair of black slacks and the first top I got my hands on, but when I turned around, it was to find Jacob sitting stretched out on the edge of my bed, leaning back on his hands and long legs stretched out in front of him.

I looked at him expectantly.

He stared back blankly. "Well?"

I gestured toward the door. "I need to change."

"And?"

A blush burned my cheeks, as I realized he had every intention of staying exactly where he was despite my need to remove my wet clothes before donning dry ones. Of course, I could make a fuss and force him out or easily go to the bathroom and change. I could—and I was fairly certain that was what he was expecting. But I didn't want to.

The warm tingling thrill I'd experienced when we had first kissed in the kitchen returned with a vengeance, as I stood contemplating my next move. It was the buzz of experiencing something new—something untainted by jaded memories. It was the exhilaration of feeling after spending so many months numb. It was the desire that by body trembled with now that it had experienced the magnetism of heat. And it was all Jacob's fault.

I bit my lip in a final moment of indecision before straightening my posture resolutely and schooling my face into what I hoped was a look of nonchalance. After tossing my change of clothes onto the bed next to Jacob, I raised my hands to the hem of my t-shirt. The last thing I saw before lifting the wet, clingy cotton over my head was a glimpse of Jacob's shocked face.

I didn't raise my eyes to look at him as I continued to strip damp denim from my legs. Focusing on the mechanical process of removing my clothes and pulling on new ones distracted me from the pounding in my ears and the heat creeping uncontrollably up my neck. The weight of his stare raised goose bumps on my flesh, and inwardly I cursed that I had chosen a button up blouse, as my shaky hands fumbled with getting the little circles of plastic through the proper holes. But then tan hands appeared on top of mine, gently lowering them down to my sides. Jacob's hot breath against the top of my head had my own breaths quickening, but I continued to stare down at his hands, which had gone to work on the button my own fingers had been fumbling unsuccessfully with. He eased it through the hole without any difficulty before moving slowly up to the next.

The house could have started crumbling down to the ground around us, and I was pretty sure I wouldn't notice. Hell, Victoria could have come leaping through the window at that very moment, and I wouldn't have even spared her a glance. I was entirely too focused on Jacob standing inches away, not touching me. Not touching me and still driving me crazy.

His fingers skimmed up to the button directly over the swell of my chest, and I bit my lip to keep from breathing to loudly. Jacob groaned and leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he exhaled, "Jesus, Bells."

A shiver shot down my spine, and I nodded unintelligibly, letting him know I understood exactly how he felt; I was burning too.

His fingers lingered atop my blouse, and for a moment I wondered if he was going to start undoing all of the work he had just finished. I wondered if I wanted him to.

He didn't though. With what appeared to be no small amount of effort, he raised his hands to cup my face, angling it back so he could press his lips gently to mine. When he pulled away he was chuckling nervously. "Let's not make a habit of putting me in a situation where I have to be the responsible one, okay? I don't have the willpower, and you've been testing me a lot lately."

I smiled, adrenaline still pumping through my veins. "You have my permission to be completely irresponsible from now on."

His hands dropped to my waist, and he tugged my body against his. "In that case, I'm going to need you to warn me before you decide to get naked, so I won't get the chance to be irresponsible in the first place."

"Hey, I told you I was going to…"

"Shut up, Bells," he muttered and kissed me again.

Unfortunately—I think—Jacob and I didn't get irresponsible. I laughed nervously and told him he just earned another three years—officially making him older than I.

We headed downstairs to the kitchen, and I put the un-iced cake—minus a piece for Charlie—in a traveling case for Jacob to take back with him to La Push. His patrol shift started in an hour, and he wanted a chance to check and see if Billy needed anything before hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said accepting the cake and a kiss.

I looked appraisingly at his face and noticed for the first time that day the dark circles beneath his eyes. Immediately I felt guilty. "I don't know, Jake. Maybe you should use tomorrow to catch up on some sleep."

Jacob made a dismissive noise. "Sleep when I could be spending quality time figuring out new ways to make you blush? I don't think so."

Predictably, blood surged to my face. "Jacob, I'm being completely serious. When you're not in school you're spending all of your time with me or patrolling." I tried to make him understand the reason for my concern. "When was the last time you had good solid rest for more than four hours at a time?"

"When's the last time you did?" he countered, and I knew he was referring to the many nights I either woke up screaming or spent tossing and turning.

"That's different," I said defensively. "I have nightmares…"

"Then I'll make you a deal."

"What?"

"You come over tomorrow…"

"But—"

"You come over tomorrow, and we'll just relax. Maybe even get a few hours of shuteye. No funny stuff."

I looked at him suspiciously. "You'll try to get some sleep?"

"As long as you do."

Well, I couldn't really argue with the terms. The best sleep I had in the last month had been in Jacob's bed. The prospect of resting there again with Jacob to keep me company was an appealing one. "Fine."

Jacob grinned victoriously. "Good. Tomorrow then."

He dashed off to the Rabbit and was backing out of the driveway before I even had time to register the kiss he'd pressed to my forehead.

When Charlie got home from the Black's that evening he was in an unusually chipper mood. At first I owed that to the good possibility that he had spent the entire day plunked down in front of a TV drinking beer and eating unhealthily, until I noticed that he was perfectly coordinated—not tipsy—and had quite an appetite—far from being stuffed silly with junk food. Immediately I was suspicious.

"So," I asked while pouring him a glass of milk to go with his—now iced—piece of cake, "what did you and Billy do today?"

He flashed a grin before fighting it down with some effort. "Oh," he sighed in a failed attempt at indifference, "the usual. You know, dad stuff."

Ah ha. "Uh huh."

"Now, what is that look for, Bells?"

I shrugged and moved over to the sink so I could finish washing the dishes that still remained from my adventurous afternoon with Jacob. "It's just…since when have you and Billy gotten together to do 'dad stuff?' What _is_ dad stuff?"

He swallowed a bit of cake, took a drink, and cleared his throat. "We talked."

"About…" I probed while shaking the water from a mixer before turning it over on the drying rack.

"Things. Rachel. Sarah. You and Jacob…"

"Me and Jacob?" I threw him a look over my shoulder.

"Well," he said, slightly ruffled by my scrutiny, "now that you two are together…"

"Gah! Will you stop saying that!"

Charlie looked amused. "It's true isn't it?"

I turned adamantly back towards the sink, my face warm with color. "Yes," I mumbled. But why did he have to say it like that? Like we were eternally bound to one another? There was still a choice. Jacob still had a choice.

Nothing was certain. In the bat of an eye—the dark, smoky eyes of Jacob's nameless soul mate I had started to find myself picturing and dreading—it could all be gone.

Charlie appeared at my side, rinsing off his cake plate. "I didn't mean to upset you, Bells," he mumbled apologetically. He paused for a moment, seemingly unsure if he should continue until finally settling on, "It's just that I could get used to seeing you smile again." He gently squeezed my forearm before heading out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

My hands fell limply into the soapy water, and I sighed wearily into the remaining quiet. "So could I."

When I crawled into bed that night, it was with a sense of certainty that my sleep would not be restful, not after the day's unsettling events. So when I closed my eyes and was greeted with the stark light of day, I was not initially surprised. But the scene before me was a new one.

Though I was outside in an open field, everything appeared dull and faded; the grass seemed more grey than green, the sky was white, and the yellow of the shinning sun was so pale the celestial body could have been mistaken for the moon. Even the people standing clumped together in frightened, angry groups below me looked worn, like the yellowed pages of an old book bereft of its spine.

Their clothes were dated, resembling something I'd expect the characters from my Jane Austen books to wear. But somehow they matched the crude, wooden stage I stood upon. Stage?

I looked to my left only to find myself inches away from a sneering, grizzled face. His chapped lips were moving, but no words escaped, and it was then that I recognized the silence that engulfed me. Wind noiselessly breezed through my hair, air left my lungs but did so silently, and the gnarled man's curses fell on my deaf ears.

A crooked finger raised accusingly in my direction, but his cold, jeering stare was not meant for me. Turning slowly, as if my movement was as muffled as my hearing, I came face-to-face with a young, despairing woman. And almost immediately I felt the calm power flow through me—around me as we resonated together…

Amongst the grey tones of this world, this woman was a beacon of radiance. Her tangled wheat-colored hair caught the invisible rays of sunlight as it fell around her smooth, flawless face. Her pale, pink skin shone radiantly even as tears trailed leisurely over her cheeks. A tragic beauty.

I was so distracted by the woman that I almost didn't notice the tall stake she was tied to or the wood piled haphazardly at her feet…

Smoke. It took me a moment to recognize the rising dark swirl for what is was—I couldn't smell it—and another moment longer to realize it was emanating from the flames now licking at the woman's long white skirt, burning…

The woman continued to cry, and I found myself wanting to weep for her.

My eyes reluctantly fell away from her face to land on her naked shoulder, and the last thing I saw as everything faded to white was a black hand.

I entered the waking world with jolt, shooting up in my bed in search of air, as I greedily gasped in lungfuls of oxygen. The several minutes it took for my body to stop trembling were frighteningly disorienting as image after image assaulted my sight, the dream playing over and over like the pages of a flipbook turned too quickly.

And even when the pictures slowed and the scene became clear, I continued to sit motionlessly, contemplating the dream I could eerily recall every detail of, as if it were truly a memory and not just a nightmare composed by my punishing, restless mind. It, like the one from several nights ago, had felt so _real_. But that was impossible. Those were places I had never seen, people I had never met, a time I had never existed in. Yet, I felt like I knew them, _her_ especially.

For heaven's sake! Why couldn't I have nightmares about bad hair days and going to school in my underwear like everybody else? That's what normal girls dreamed about, right? And I was normal. Painfully so.

A glance at the clock on my nightstand told me it was late enough to get up, but as I rose to my feet, it certainly didn't feel like I had gotten nine hours of sleep. My limbs felt limp and useless as I made my way down the hall to the bathroom, and despite my resolve to take a nice, long refreshing shower, my weak fingers struggled to work the handles of the tap.

After the shower I felt mildly better, not quite so weak physically but still mentally drained. Putting any effort into fixing my breakfast was out of the question and I settled for grabbing a breakfast bar before scribbling a note explaining where I'd be to Charlie and heading for my truck.

It was a fairly dry day, and I drove to La Push with the windows down, so that by the time I arrived outside of Jacob's house, my hair was a windblown mess and my complexion was unusually pink. I couldn't find the energy to care.

When I knocked, Billy answered the door, and I did my best to return his bright smile with my own tired one.

"Hello, Bella," he greeted warmly. He was acting like Charlie had the night before.

"Hey, Billy. Could you tell Jake that I'm here?"

His smile faltered. "Actually, Jacob's not in. He's out with the others…"

Huh. I could have sworn we had made plans. My foggy brain tried to recall the details of our parting conversation from the previous day, but I couldn't come up with what time we had decided on. Maybe I was early.

"If you want," said Billy, taking in my befuddled state, "you could wait here for him. I'm sure he'll be back soon."

I considered this briefly, but as much as I loved Billy, I was in no mood to keep up my side of any conversation he would undoubtedly start up. "That's okay. There's someone else I wanted to drop in on while I was here, anyway."

Billy looked confused but gave a hesitant nod anyway. "Oh, well alright." The unspoken question: who else in La Push could you possibly be close enough to that you'd hang out with? The answer: no one.

But that didn't stop me as I began to make my way down the winding road. The distance was longer than I recalled, but I easily attributed that to my state of mind at the time. Plus, last time I'd been running.

I knocked on the old, wooden door that was almost identical to one at the Black's house. Again I was greeted with a smile—though this one was small and worn-down.

"Oh, hello. Bella, right?"

"Ye-," I cleared my throat. "Yes. Is Leah home?"

"Actually she's up in her room." Sue paused, probably wondering what the hell I was doing here. And rightfully so, because I couldn't have given her a logical answer even if she'd asked. "Would you like to come in?" she asked, sounding hopeful, and I couldn't help but think that she was asking me something more.

But I was too tired to dwell on it. Instead I nodded as she stepped aside so I could enter the house. Miraculously my brain functioned well enough for me to murmur a "thank you" to Sue before I headed up the stairs. This time I didn't hesitate as outside of Leah's door; I didn't even knock. I walked in, spotted her ridiculously comfy-looking bed, and collapsed on top of it with a sigh.

Being horizontal, I mused, was much nicer than being vertical.

"What are you doing?" Leah glared at me over the top of her notebook. She sat on the floor several feet away, leaning back against the wall with her knees bent, a pencil in one hand and a sketch pad in the other. I got the feeling she was attempting to bore a hole through my skull using the sheer force of her death stare. For a moment I thought it would actually work

"What are you drawing?"

"Why are you here?" she shot back.

"Are you any good?"

She scoffed, looked down at her paper and then back up at me. "No."

"Me either."

Leah's glower turned from angry to irritated. "Look, do you mind telling me what the fu—"

"I've been having strange dreams."

"I don't care."

Me either. I just wanted them to stop. Waking up in the middle of the night screaming had been so much better when I'd been dreaming about Edward leaving. At least then I understood why I was miserable.

I rolled over onto my stomach.

"I'm still in love with my ex-boyfriend." The words left my lips in an exasperated sigh, and I didn't bother trying to stop them even when halfway through the sentence I became aware of what exactly I was saying. Too tired.

Leah mumbled something under her breath but didn't bother commenting audibly.

"He told me he loved me, that I was his life. Then," I explained, "he left me."

"Sounds like a shitty boyfriend." Leah had resumed her drawing. The smooth, quiet strokes of the pencil moving across the page served as a stark contrast to her unkempt appearance and twisted frown. I wondered what she was drawing.

"Actually he was great. Perfect," I murmured forlornly. No individual moments or specific memories came to mind, just the all-encompassing essence that was Edward Cullen; the love I felt for him, the way he'd once claimed to love me, the rapid beating of my heart whenever he was close, the loyalty he showed toward his family, the pure soul he denied the existence of, all of that came crashing down on me, swaddling me up in what used to be and strangling me with what was no more. Somehow all of this managed to crawl inside of me and gnaw at the tangible hole in my chest, mercilessly tearing at the progress I had so painstakingly made.

This, I thought, was why I never allowed myself to dwell on Edward.

"Yeah. Perfect right up to the point where he ditched your ass in the middle of the woods. Sounds like a first-rate guy."

I grimaced. "You heard about that, huh?"

Leah snorted. "Who didn't?"

The soft comforter beneath my cheek soothed away the blush that would normally flush my skin at such a discovery, and I was left feeling strangely emboldened.

"Do you still love him?" I asked quietly, certain she would know exactly who I was referring to.

The pencil faltered over the paper. Leah's eyes shot up to meet mine, and I caught a glimpse of the vulnerability she always managed hide away, tucked safely behind snide remarks and callous gestures. Pretenses.

But it was just a flicker, and her cool gaze returned to her work, the pencil once again moving steadily.

"I hate him," she said.

It wasn't a 'no.'

"Leah!" Sue's voice reached us from the bottom of the stairs. "Jacob's here!"

I looked at Leah questioningly when after several second she didn't make a move to get up. She just stared coolly back. "What? It's not like he came to see me."

If it had been anybody else, I wouldn't have budged; I would have been perfectly content to continue lying prostrate on this bed and not move. Ever. But it was Jacob, and for him I would do just about anything. My legs just needed some extra motivation to get moving. Huffing a sigh, I slumped onto my feet, waved lethargically at Leah—who was looking at her drawing—and shuffled down the steps.

Jacob was waiting at the bottom, leaning against the banister with his arms crossed over his chest as he smiled up at me. I stopped in my descent when we were eye-to-eye so that I could easily sling my arms around his neck and lean into his warm torso for support. "Take me to bed!"

He chuckled at my yawned order, the sound reverberating through his chest and jostling my cheek lying on his shoulder. "Yes, Ma'am."

He grabbed my hand and began to move toward the door, but I shook my head. "Uh uh. Too tired to walk. You'll have to carry me."

Jacob raised an eyebrow, but my slack face and drooping eyes must have convinced him I was serious. "I don't know, Bells. It's pretty far, and you're kind of heavy…"

Not possessing the energy to physically retaliate, I sunk down on the steps. "That's okay. I'll just catch a nap right here before we go then."

He sighed, but there was a smile pulling at his lips as he leaned down and picked me up underneath my arms, settling me to lie against his right shoulder. Doing my best to be helpful, I snaked my legs around his waist, so he secure his arms beneath me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck so I could rest my head on his shoulder. I sighed in contentment.

"Bye, Sue!" Jacob called as we left through the front door.

We didn't talk on the way back to his house, which was fine with me. I got to breathe in Jacob, as he took slow, long strides, seemingly unhindered by my weight despite his early complaint about me being heavy. Every few moments he'd run his hand up and down the length of my back or pull his fingers through my hair, and I was tempted to fall asleep right where I was.

But just as I began to doze off, Jacob was laying me down on his bed.

I was slightly disoriented because I didn't remember ever going through the front door, but then Jacob was pulling off my shoes and scooting me to the far side, and I knew I was where I was supposed to be.

"So," he said as he sat down on the side of the mattress, "what did you and Leah talk about?"

* * *

**AN:** Yes, Bella, do tell. :P

A big heartfelt thank you to those of you who reviewed last chapter. High-fives all around. You ladies and gents rock my socks on a weekly basis.


	11. Forgiveness

**Zenith**

_Chapter Eleven – Forgiveness_

* * *

Letting out a prolonged, dramatic yawn, I bought myself some time to consider my response. Telling Jacob that I had talked to Leah about Edward and how much I still loved him didn't seem like a very grand idea. That would only hurt him. But I didn't want to lie either. Jacob deserved honesty—and so much more than I was struggling to give.

"Boys," I answered vaguely.

"Hmm. I don't approve. Leah's an established man-hater," he muttered thoughtfully while toying with a lock of my hair that was splayed across his pillow. "And a woman-hater for that matter. Really, she doesn't like anybody."

Leah's inhumanly blank face the day after her father died and her wild, nervous behavior at dinner just a couple of days ago still stuck with me. "She must be so lonely."

"Believe me when I say it's a self-induced exile…hey, you okay?"

My knee-jerk reaction to his question was "Yes, I'm fine," but the lie couldn't force its way past my lips. Instead I let out a shaky breath and shook my head minutely. "It hurts a little," I murmured even as I wrapped my arms around myself in an attempt to force the hole closed and keep the pain from spreading.

"Hey, hey, hey," Jacob murmured as he shifted the rest of his body onto the bed. "None of that, remember?" I nodded, but it took Jacob's firm hold on my forearms to remove my hands' death grip on my waist. "Relax," he breathed into my ear, and I did my best to stop my fingers from shaking. The feel of his warm hand on my stomach sent my heart racing, and it became a struggle to breathe evenly. Could he feel the pain emanating from me under his touch? Did he see the gaping hole?

His hand was moving, working the fabric of my t-shirt up past my ribs until the entire expanse of my pale abdomen was revealed. The feel of his strong fingers gliding over my stomach before settling on my hips was therapeutic. My body began relaxing inch by inch.

"So soft," he sighed against me, resting his rough cheek on my exposed skin. My fingers found their way into his inky black locks, combing through the short silky strands and massaging into his scalp.

My emotional pain was defenseless in the face of Jacob's selfless devotion, just as the aching in my chest couldn't stand up against the steady rush of Jacob's warm breath against my skin.

Sleep's siren call was soon too insistent to resist, and as my eyes drooped closed, I knew the nightmares would keep their distance.

* * *

"This is…this is…"

"Unbelievable?"

"Terrifying?"

"Screwed up?"

"Fucking awesome."

I blinked at Quil's assessment and shot a glance over at Jacob, who was leaning against the worn arm of the couch. He looked disapproving but unsurprised.

"I mean, hello! I turn into a giant WOLF! The strength, the sight, the hearing, the speed…Man, the speed!" Quil shook his head, a giant grin stretching across his face as he leaned back against the couch cushions. "I must have been booking at least 80. And to think," he exclaimed, his smile falling into a frown, "you guys were holding out on me this entire time." He looked sourly at the faces of all the pack members currently crowded into the Black's living room.

And then his eyes fell on me.

"Hey! How come Bella got to know before I did?" he whined. "Bros before hoes, right?"

I shrunk back into the recliner away from his scowl, and Sam graciously saved me from having to respond. "It's complicated," he said simply, authoritatively.

But the wheels were already starting to turn, and Quil's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Wait," he murmured, "didn't you go out with one of the Cullens?"

I fidgeted and gave a barely perceptible nod. Quil's eyes grew to the size of gulf balls. He raised an accusing finger at me. "You dated a vampire!"

"And you turn into giant dog," Jacob chimed in, drawing both Quil's attention and his unabashed smile.

"Yeah, fucking awesome, right?!"

I relaxed, made a mental note to thank Jacob later, and settled down for at least another good 20 minutes of sporadic werewolf Q&A and back-patting. They'd all boisterously filed into the Black residence about half-an-hour earlier, crudely pulling me from my wondrously dream-free sleep when they'd busted into Jacob's room unannounced.

After much relentless teasing on their part—and much embarrassed blushing on mine—at finding Jacob and I in such a compromising position, they retreated into the living room—granted, this was probably due to the spare car parts Jacob was chucking at them and not some latent sense of decency—where the newly changed Quil immediately started voicing his excitement and bewilderment.

"…so fucking awesome!"

"You've said that," Embry grumbled. "Several times."

"Yeah, and it's still true. Man, I can't wait until I'm done filling out! The ladies won't be able to stay away."

Paul snickered. "Just because you're bigger doesn't mean you're gravitational pull increases any. In fact, since there's twice as much as you, it means you're twice as repulsive as you were before…"

Aside from his comment when Quil cornered me, Jacob had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the discussion. He watched Quil warily, each enthusiastic exclamation causing his frown to deepen in response. To him, Quil just didn't _get_ it. He didn't understand what this would mean for his current life, for his future. Jacob saw this life as a confine, and all Quil saw was liberation.

I left my chair and made my way over to Jacob, who accepted me into his arms with a grateful glance, before returning his attention to the ongoing discussion. I rested my face against the worn cotton of his shirt and rested my arms comfortably around his waist. His body relaxed against me.

"So this _Victoria_ has been around for weeks? And what? No dice?"

I tensed up at the mention of the demented vampire hell-bent on killing me.

"She's skilled at evasion and always manages to just slip past us," Sam answered, and a general growl of frustration rumbled through the room.

"If she knows there's five, well, now six, werewolves out to get her, why does she keep coming around? She doesn't "live" here or something, does she?"

A weighted silence settled over the room, and Jacob's grip on me tightened. For the first time since they'd entered the house, the easy camaraderie dissipated.

"Because of me," I answered quietly when no one else did. "She wants to kill me." Or worse.

The stony silence held firm. I wondered if he would be angry, knowing that he would have to risk his life for some pathetic girl he hardly knew. Maybe he'd refuse? I hoped he would. It would be one less life on my conscious.

Quil turned so he could look me in the eye. A cocky smirk turned up the corners of his lips. "Well, the she-devil's used to playing with puppies. She won't know what hit her when she has her first run-in with Big Daddy Quil…"

A flashlight smacking into the side of Quil's head broke the tense atmosphere and the room erupted.

"Puppies? Puppies!"

"Big Daddy?"

"_You_'re the two-day-old mut!"

"Don't ever refer to yourself as that again."

"Let's take this outside,"—knuckles cracked—"and I'll show you who's a puppy."

"Ever, ever again."

"This I've gotta see."

The lightheartedness didn't catch me as it swept up the rest of the room, so I watched them banter, trying not to frown.

Jacob ran a hand through my hair, murmuring, "Don't worry, Bells" in my ear.

I nodded and worried anyway.

* * *

Idly I ran my fingers over the pebbles littering the bank of the small creek that cut along the back of the Clearwater's property. A rather large, smooth stone stilled my fingers, and I turned it over in my hand, as I continued to explain my recurring dream of the beautiful woman being burned at the stake.

"But last night's was different. Well, it was the same dream, but this time I could smell and taste it too. Though I still couldn't hear anything, I feel like I'm becoming more and more a part of it. Or maybe it's the other way around," I offered hopelessly. The retched scent of ash and burning flesh clung to me even now in the waking world, and the heat of the blazing fire still warmed my skin.

"You're crazy," Leah groaned into her knees. She was curled up just a few feet away, her arms crushing her legs to her chest, her face buried away from the world.

When Emily had mentioned the idea of inviting Leah over to join her, Kim, and me in our afternoon of baking, I had volunteered to come over and ask her personally, knowing that any phoned request would be too easily rejected. When I had knocked, a very distracted and anxious Sue had answered the door and quickly directed me to the backyard, not taking the time to share in her usual pleasantries.

Now, as I watched Leah's hunched form just a short distance away, I noticed the strained outline of her muscles and the slight trembling of her body. Was she sweating? It was like 50 degrees outside.

"Are…are you feeling okay?" I asked tentatively, conscious of how much I hated it when anyone asked _me_ that.

"I-I'm fine," she grunted, still not raising her head. "It's just…damn Seth must have given me whatever it is he has…"

"Yeah, must have," I agreed quickly even though I knew what Seth was going through wasn't something you could catch.

It was only two weeks after Quil's change, and a couple of days ago Seth had started showing signs that he too would soon be joining the pack. Today the majority of La Push High School's freshmen class, including Seth, was out cleaning trash up off the hiking trails, and Sam had the entire pack on alert.

"Why don't you hate him?"

Leah's strained, monotone voice carried all the subtlety of a freight train. And even though I recognized the question for what it was, a way to deflect unwanted attention from herself, I got the feeling that she genuinely wanted to know. Plus, it was the first time I wasn't the one asking the questions.

I opened my mouth to give the explanation that made sense, the one I gave myself whenever I was alone and had too much time to dwell on the past. I was going to tell her that it was impossible for me to hate Edward when he had been so generous to me, a person so undeserving of his consideration or even his attention. That's what I was _going_ to tell her.

But—and I'm not sure why, maybe because I was afraid she'd see through the lie like she saw through everything else—that's not what left my lips.

"Because," I said slowly, cautiously testing the words for truth as they formed on my tongue, "I'm afraid that if I let myself hate him, that's all I'll remember. I don't want to forget what it felt like to love him." I swallowed and looked to the ground. "It was the most…amazing thing."

The rock in my hand suddenly weighed a ton—like the memories I held in my heart—and I let it clamber noisily to the ground.

"It would be _so_ _easy_ to hate him, to blame him for my pain," I told her honestly.

It would be easy. Even now, the resentment sat hastily packed away in a corner of my mind like the mutilated radio hidden in my closet at home. All I had to do was open it up and let it out.

"But then how could I explain why I still feel this way about him?" Not for the first time, I found myself admitting my frustration for the pathetic situation I had found myself in. "You can't love someone who makes you broken and empty the way I am…was…before Jacob."

Leah was silent for several moments, and then, "You hate yourself so that you can love him," she said stonily. "You take the blame."

She looked at me for the first time that day, her cheek resting on her knees. She didn't have to voice her feelings to communicate them to me. I could see exactly what she thought of me just by the expression on her face; her accusation was perfectly clear: pathetic.

I cringed and ducked my head, suddenly ashamed that I clung to my love for the man who left me, while it was so clear she was doing everything in her power to smother her love for the man who left her with hatred.

"Believe me," came her rough, stretched voice, "you can do both."

The desire to tell her everything involving Sam, and werewolves, and imprinting surged through me. But it wasn't my place, wasn't my secret, and I fought the inclination with every ounce of self-control I possessed.

"Maybe," I murmured instead, "but _he_'s not around to forgive and _I_ am." With time and Jacob's indispensible help, I was learning to forgive myself, learning to love myself again. If I were to put Edward at fault for what I'd been through, _he_ would be the one I'd have to forgive. _He_ would be the one I'd have to come to terms with in order to move on. And I just didn't think I could handle that. "It's easier this way."

"You're fucking screwed up, you know that?"

So, thoughtful, conversational Leah was gone, and the snide mask was back in place. I sighed, stood, and brushed my hands clean. "Yeah, I know." Pursing my lips, I added, "But you're not exactly the walking definition of "put together" either."

"At least I don't pretend otherwise," she shot back.

"At least I'm making an effort to set things straight."

"Well, whoopdy-fucking-doo. As if…" She trailed off, tightening her hold on herself and letting out a hiss of pain. Her entire body shuddered.

"Leah?" I took a hesitant step forward, unsure if she would rebuff my concern.

"I'm…just s-so hot." A loud breath wheezed past her lips. Pushing all caution aside, I dropped to her side and laid a hand on her trembling arm.

"Maybe you should go lie down…" The words died on my lips as my shocked fingers flinched away from her skin; she was as cold as ice. As cold as…

Something was wrong. Every inch of my being hummed with warning as Leah's shivering began to turn violent. Her body jerked, her skin rippled, a low moan gargled in her throat. Instinct demanded for me to move.

Slowly I began to back away towards the house, my awkward steps slow and guarded. Just as I turned my head to yell for Sue, Leah's body slammed into me, knocking me backwards off my feet.

I met the ground with Leah on top of me, my lungs heaving for air they couldn't find. The weight on my chest shifted, intensified, and when I opened my eyes, it was no longer Leah sprawled on top of me.

I screamed.

For once in my life, I reacted properly in a life-threatening situation. I yelled, and kicked, and screamed as the giant wolf pinned me mercilessly to the ground, flexing its' claws into the flesh of my abdomen as it growled over the raucous I was causing.

"Leah," I gasped breathlessly when the claws retracted back up painfully through my skin before plunging deeper. "Please."

It felt as if someone had stuck me with a hot iron and was scrambling around my insides. The weight was crushing, and I couldn't gather the air to scream "Off! Get off!" like my body demanded.

She let out a low growl, her hot breath fanning across my face. The stench of blood hung heavy in the air, and I fought the urge to vomit. Big, brown, animalistic eyes bore into mine, and there was no hint of recognition in their smoldering depths. No human reason taking over.

Death had found me yet again.

With that frightening realization, I closed my eyes and did my best to relax despite the pain that was burning me inside out. I pictured all of the things I would miss from the living world. Charlie. Renee. Edward. Jacob. Oh, God, Jacob. I never told him…

I pictured myself lying by Edward's side in the meadow, sitting in the Rabbit watching Jacob work, shopping with Alice, cooking with Emily, Edward walking away, Jacob holding me tight…

My eyes blinked slowly open. The feral wolf above me was poised, ready to strike, her eyes focused keenly on my neck. With no prelude save a guttural growl she shot forward with the intent to kill.

And then I was gone.

* * *

**AN:** I guess now would be an appropriate time to warn you that I'm quite liberal with my use of cliffhangers. :)

Thank you to everyone who reviewed; you have my love. Hearing from you guys is always incredible. I'll try to be snappy with the next chapter because this one was so short.


	12. Into the Woods

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twelve – Into the Woods_

_

* * *

_

I opened my eyes and saw…trees. Lots of trees. And green. Green Trees.

Heaven, I thought, looked a lot like Forks.

And then…then the searing pain registered.

Correction, _Hell_ looked a lot like Forks.

I sat up—nearly collapsed when the movement produced the sensation of a thousand knives stabbing into my stomach—and then rolled onto my knees. The metallic stench of blood burned my nostrils, and this time I really did vomit.

Ugh. Was it supposed to be that color?

On the ground, kneeling beside blood and bile, I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, so I struggled to my feet, grasping a moss-covered trunk to keep from toppling right back over into my mess.

Don't look down. Don't look down. Don't look down.

Maybe if I didn't look at the disaster that was my torn body, then maybe I could pretend it wasn't ripped and ragged. In fact, it wasn't there at all. This was the afterlife, and I was a disembodied spirit condemned to haunt the woods of Forks until the end of days. Yes. That had to be it.

The pain would stop anytime now…

"Oh…shit."

I tuned to see a wide-eyed face frozen in shock...as if he'd seen a ghost. "Embry."

His name on my lips spurred him into animation, and in three quick strides he was in front of me, reaching out with big sturdy hands that I half expected to go right through me—because, hello, you can't touch ghosts.

They didn't. Was Embry a spirit too?

He was panicked, and his words poured out too quickly and too thickly like a syrup bottle squeezed too tightly. "How the Hell did you get out here? We saw…we saw you…and now…How? We were with Seth, and then we heard Leah. I don't know how she…and then we saw you. Oh, man, you're in bad shape. Hospital. You need to go to the hospital…just so much damn blood…"

Was there? The tree moved, and I tumbled forward into Embry. His hands righted me quickly, and as I pulled away in his arms, I saw the red staining his chest—blood from the smell of it. Yes, there was so much damn blood. Was he hurt?

I looked him over with fuzzy eyes, caught even more red in the corner of my sight, looked down and realized I was covered in it too. My blood. It was coming from me, pouring from my body.

I was bleeding. I was alive. I wasn't dead. Yet.

"…and Jacob ran for you the minute we realized. I've never felt so much…"

Jacob. I almost hadn't gotten the chance to tell him. He had to know. There was still time.

Embry moved to pick me up. He looked pale and panicky. "I'll phase and let them know after I get you to the hospital. We need to move now! There's so much blood."

"Embry." I held up a hand and took a wobbly step back. He kept a firm hold on my forearm.

"What is it Bella?" he asked anxiously.

"You have to tell, Jake…tell him..." My voice warred with unsteady breaths and vomit drying in the back of my throat. "Tell him I love him. No, tell him I'm _in _love with him."

Embry went still and silent for several heartbeats—mine were limited and precious now—before swallowing thickly and saying slowly, "You can tell him yourself once we…"

"Please," I begged.

He swallowed again. Nodded.

"Tell him I'm sorry that I didn't realize it sooner and that I didn't get to tell him myself."

"Bella," he pleaded, and he tried reaching for me again.

"No," I choked, feebly pushing at his arms. This was important. I wouldn't leave Jacob the way Edward had left me: abandoned and unloved. "You have to make sure he understands I love him so, so, so much."

"Okay, I'll make sure he knows," he relented, his impatience showing though his placating words, "but we need to get you help _now_."

I allowed myself to be swept up into warm, large arms that hardly jostled me even as Embry took off at break-neck speed. He followed an invisible path that weaved through trees and around thorny undergrowth, as I began to lose track of the seconds and minutes that ticked by. Confident that my words would make it to Jacob's ears, I allowed myself to succumb to the darkness that had been threatening the edge of my vision since I'd opened my eyes in the woods.

The last thing I was aware of before everything went black were the words that slurred almost incomprehensibly past my lips. "Make sure Victoria knows I'm gone."

* * *

…_beep…beep…beep…_

That sound. I knew that sound. And the smell: sterile cotton, bleach, and plastic. A hospital.

But something wasn't right. That warmth in my hand and against my temple didn't belong to an emergency room bed or an overworked doctor.

"Bells."

Jake. I attempted to say the name aloud, but my lips refused to work.

"Honey, open your eyes for me."

I willed my lashes to part, and they fluttered in resistance to the sudden flood of harsh light. My sight blurred, adjusted, and then focused on the breathtakingly familiar face hovering over me.

"Jake," I croaked. And even though I sounded God awful, he gave a small smile and pressed a kiss into the palm of my hand. Warmth flooded my body, and I knew I had made it back home.

I wanted to hold him closer—just be nearer to him—but my body was hardly responsive. Most everything felt numb. Nothing worked.

Jacob noticed my struggling and shifted his chair closer to the bed so that he could rest his head on the pillow next to me.

"How do you feel," he murmured, his lips just inches from my nose.

Exhausted. Drained. Strange. "Fine."

His snort was mirthless. "Liar."

I shrugged—my shoulders seemed to be in perfect working order—and promised him that I'd had worse.

"Well, I haven't," he said somberly. His eyes crinkled in pain, as if he were in physical agony.

"I'm sorry I made you worry." And I meant it.

He flinched. "Don't…don't apologize."

I managed to flex my fingers around his, and he raised our hands to rest between us, brushing his lips across my knuckles.

"_I_'m sorry." His voice was rough with self-loathing, and suddenly I was taken back to another near-death experience with another boy. I shivered at the similarities.

"Jake…"

"No. I should have…we should have seen it coming. The signs were there, but we were just _so sure_ it was only males. We never even thought to…" He stopped breathlessly. His eyes clenched shut as his face twisted in a grimace. "And when I saw you through her eyes, heard her panic and her anger, I just ran. She wasn't listening to anything we were telling her, and I knew I had to get to you before…" He was unable to finish the thought. "And then you were gone." His grip on my hand tightened, as if to keep me from vanishing now. Slow tears had escaped his eyes to trail down his cheek, and I managed to shift closer and kiss them away. His shuddering breath caressed my neck, broke my heart, and warmed my soul. There were two, three more presses of my lips against his face before his warm palm rose to my chin and directed my mouth to his.

"I'm sorry," he assured again when I pulled away for air. The room was suddenly hot, and I knew it wasn't due to the powerful painkillers that had to be pumping through my system.

I kissed him again lightly. "It's not your fault."

"I promised you I'd keep you safe," he countered.

"It was nobody's fault. Well, except maybe my own for setting her off."

He shook his head fiercely. "Don't you dare take the blame, Bella. Not for this."

His jaw was set, and I was fairly certain that if our position would have allowed for it, he would have crossed his arms in tell-tale stubbornness. No matter what I said to convince him otherwise, he would shoulder the responsibility for my current state of injury.

"Okay," I conceded, "then I forgive you."

"You're heavily medicated. It doesn't count."

I sort-of-laughed, and it hurt. Badly. "You're right. When it all wears off, I'll probably loathe you and never want to see you again."

He finally gave a small, real smile and leaned forward so that his lips buzzed my ear as he hummed, "Then I'll just have to take advantage of you now in your weakened state."

A shiver traveled the length of my neck, and I quickly brushed away any incredulity at being seduced while lying badly wounded in a hospital bed. Perhaps Jacob had too good of a bedside manner.

"Where's Charlie?" I asked to distract my wandering mind.

"Home sleeping," Jacob responded, pressing his lips to my forehead as he sat up in his chair. "He just about passed out in here, so Embry drove him back to the house so he could get some decent rest."

My stomach churned in guilt at the thought of Charlie once again suffering on my behalf. He really didn't deserve such a problematic daughter. I'd have to find a way to make it up to him somehow.

"Embry?" I asked in confusion. Shouldn't he be with the pack? Surely with both Seth and Leah as new additions, they would need both him _and_ Jacob.

"Yeah, he's been waiting with me. You kinda freaked him out." Jacob's voice dropped on the last part and he looked like he was remembering something painful. The last few minutes before I passed out were not particularly sharp in my memory, but I definitely remembered the gist of things.

"…_so much blood…"_

"_Tell him I love him."_

"…_tell him yourself."_

"…_in love with him…"_

"_Bella…"_

"_Please."_

"…_so much blood…"_

The pictures were fuzzy, but the words rung clearly. "So, you've talked to him then," I pressed, trying to find out just how much he knew and how much I still needed to lay bare.

His nod was slow, as if he were as hesitant to acknowledge it as I was. "You thought you were going to die. You were upset," he said by way of explanation for the secondhand words that lay stretched between us. He was giving me an out.

"I meant what I said. Every word," I assured quietly.

"We'll talk about it later."

And just then the door opened to reveal a middle-aged nurse who I'd occasionally seen around the hospital during my other visits.

"Oh, Bella, you're awake," she exclaimed with a smile that I did my best to return. "How do you feel, dear?"

"Actually," I admitted, "I can't feel much of anything."

Jacob moved out of her way but still kept my hand in his as she checked over my vitals.

"As it should be. That bear took quite a few good chunks out of you, and it'll be a while before you're healed enough to go off the painkillers."

Jacob nodded when I shot him a quick look. A bear attack. That sounded plausible enough. For me, anyway.

"Now," she began, closing the clipboard after a few energetic scribbles, "Doctor Tines will be with you shortly." She smiled affectionately at me. "We're so glad you pulled through."

The thought that there had been a possibility I _wouldn't_ have made it caused me to grimace. Jacob's hold on my hand tightened around mine. When the nurse stopped her fussing and disappeared out the door, I decided that it was technically "later" and turned my attention expectantly back to the beautiful boy beside me.

"I did mean it. I told Embry because I didn't think I'd get the chance to tell you myself."

His smile was small and sad and not at all Jacob. "You were hurt, and you were afraid…"

"No," I protested vehemently, "I wasn't delusional or irrational. I-I just…_see_ things more clearly when I know I'm not going to make it." I thought of the long cab drive from where I'd ditched Alice and Jasper at the airport last year and my desperate sprint to the ballet studio. Everything had been so perfectly clear in the moments before I would meet my—then—seemingly inevitable end.

"But you did make it. Maybe things are…blurry again."

"No, I'm telling you…" I fought the urge to groan as the door opened once again, and a hopeful looking Embry popped his head in.

"Bella, you're awake!

I smiled, relieved to see he was no longer covered in my blood. "Hey, Embry." Once I made sure his eyes were locked with mine, I did everything possible to convey the sincerity behind my next words. "Thanks for taking Charlie home and thank you for…_you know_…and for saving my life. I don't know how I'll ever be able to make it up to you."

He shook his head dismissively, rocked back on his heels against the door. "I should be the one thanking you for giving the opportunity to play the knight in shining armor," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "I gotta say you were a magnificent damsel in distress, a real pleasure to save. You really had the whole fainting in my arms thing down. Gave my a bit of a hero complex. Though, maybe next time we shouldn't use real blood."

The laughter hurt my chest. But I didn't care.

Embry stayed in the room with Jacob and me for several minutes, talking about everything and nothing. It was nice not having to contribute to the conversation, just letting Jacob's warm baritone lull me into that soothing comfort of familiarity until my breathing evened and my eyes drooped closed. As I drifted off to sleep, I could still make out his hushed voice.

"I didn't get to say it…earlier…thank you. For saving her, for saving me." He exhaled heavily. There was more pressure on my hand. "She's…everything."

"I would never let anything happen to her, Jacob. None of us would."

"Sometimes I think…"

"Well, you're wrong. She's a part of you. She's a part of us."

Silence.

"Thanks."

"No problem, man."

* * *

After four days of awful hospital food and daytime TV, I was ready to bolt. The only problem was I hadn't exactly been off my back in as long, so bolting—or walking for that matter—was sort of out of the question. The only way Doctor Tines was letting me out of this health-care-facility-turned-prison was in a wheel-chair…and under strong medication. Which led to my current predicament…

"You've gotten bigger," I noted wearily, leaning my head all the way back to look up the length of Jacob's torso, so I could catch a glimpse of his face—which seemed especially far away. He really was tall. Like a tree.

Jacob's laughter was warm and rich. Like lava cake. Mmmm.

The elevator gave a high pitched 'ding' and the doors slid open. With expert finesse, he wheeled me smoothly over the threshold and turned me around in a fluid motion. Like water over rocks (me being the water and the elevator being the rock).

"If wheelchair pushing were a sport, Jake, you'd be the reigning world champion. You're a natural," I gushed.

His fingers combed through my hair, and I encouragingly rested my head back against his stomach. "I've had a lot of practice," he answered, a smile in his voice. Oh, right. Billy.

"I wonder if he'd race me?"

Another 'ding' and we were rolling down the familiar hall that led to the lobby.

"Don't you know, you're not supposed to drive under the influence," Jacob teased. "Besides he's got years of experience. You'd be slaughtered."

The nice lady behind the reception desk waved at me, but when I tried to return the gesture, my hand just flopped sporadically. Like a beached fish.

The medicine was really starting to kick in.

No surprise, it was overcast when Jack pushed me out the front doors of the hospital. But I reveled in the feel of being outside regardless. The breeze felt soothing against my skin.

We came to a stop next to the passenger door of the Rabbit, and I frowned in confusion. "Where's Charlie?"

"Inside, filling out some paperwork. Ready?" He gestured to the open car door, and I nodded my assent. Ever so carefully, he wrapped an arm around my back, the other beneath my knees and slowly transferred me to the Rabbit's seat. I couldn't help wincing at the sensation of my wounded middle shifting uncomfortably, but a deep breath and Jacobs lips on my temple was almost enough to distract me from the unpleasantness. I had a new appreciation for painkillers.

Jacob folded the wheelchair and shoved it in the backseat before hustling around to the driver side, hopping in, and starting the engine with an effortless flick of his wrist. He moved so fast he was one big blur. Like the Roadrunner.

Did that make me Wile E. Coyote? I giggled at the thought.

"What's so funny?"

Huh. Jacob was still blurry even though he wasn't moving.

I smiled, said, "I'm a dog too," and promptly passed out.

* * *

**AN:** I'm sorry, guys, that it took me longer to get this chapter out than anticipated. Finals have been kicking me in the ass and I've spent the majority of my time muttering and rocking in the corner of my dorm room. :P

But they're over now so...*woot*

Thank you for reviewing last chapter even though I left you with a much-hated cliffy. Unfortunately, that's how I roll. (BUT LOOK HOW NICE AND TIDY AND UN-SUSPENSEFUL THE ENDING WAS THIS TIME!) I appreciate any feedback you have to offer.


	13. Human

**Zenith**

_Chapter Thirteen – Human_

* * *

I was so cozily warm that I didn't want to move. The cocoon of blankets, quilts and pillows that surrounded me on every side provided a fort of safety that I was certain nothing could penetrate, and I had absolutely no desire to escape…

Was that tomato soup?

I inhaled deeply, and sure enough my stomach gurgled in response to the rich, unmistakable scent wafting into the living room from the kitchen. Mmmm.

A deep, quiet voice spoke above me, "Hey there, Sleeping Beauty."

As my eyes fought their way open, my entire body hummed with additional warmth at the site of Jacob perched on the coffee table beside the couch where I was currently lying. He reached a large hand out to brush the hair from my face.

"Hey there, Prince Charming," I murmured back, my voice disgustingly weak and throaty.

He smiled my smile anyway. "I told Quil and Embry how long you've been out, and they're very jealous. They're thinking about faking a couple of bear attacks themselves, so they can get heavy narcotics too."

"No need. I'll just sell them whatever I have left once I don't feel like my intestines are trying to escape through my skin anymore."

"Fantastic. I'll let them know you've gone Tony Montana on us."

"Already signed for Scarface 2."

He nodded solemnly. "Yeah, Al Pacino's got nothing on you."

"Darn straight."

An easy silence settled over us, and as much as I hated to disturb the peaceful quiet, my stomach refused to be hushed.

"Uh, Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you make tomato soup?" I asked hesitantly, almost fearing the answer. I'd seen the boy in action with a stove, and it was not a pretty sight. I was sort of hopping for something edible.

"No."

"Did _Charlie_ make tomato soup?" I couldn't keep the alarm out of my voice. As much as I loved the man, he couldn't even be trusted with a microwave, let alone live flames.

Jacob's lips quirked upward before he schooled his face in a guilty expression. "I swear I tried to stop him, Bells. I told him all about Smokey and the danger of forest fires, but the man just wouldn't listen." He shook his head ruefully. "As I result, half the house went up in flames."

"Not the half of the house that actually contained the soup, I hope?"

He brushed his fingers across my cheek as he rose to leave, and before I could count to ten he was back with a steaming bowl of soup in hand. He placed it on the coffee table before helping me into a sitting position. He pulled down the covers so my hands were free after I denied his teasing offer to spoon-feed me.

"No solids for a while. Doc's orders."

I nodded, not too worried because this was the first time since I'd woken up in the hospital that I'd felt any real desire for food.

"So you didn't make this," I said stirring the broth in lazy strokes with the spoon, "and the house is all still here, so Charlie didn't make it. Then who did?"

"Emily."

"Really?"

Jacob leaned back on his hands and nodded an affirmative. "You sound surprised."

"No, it's just…that was very kind of her," I answered quietly. Instantly I felt guilty for thinking some not-very-nice things about her when I'd first found out about the Leah and Sam fiasco—even if I had been somewhat misinformed at the time.

"It's what she does," he responded with a shrug. "You should see the way she's been fussing over Leah…"

"How is Leah?" I rushed to ask before my bravery fled. She had to be having a hard time with the transformation. I'd wanted to ask Jacob how she was handling things since I was in the hospital but had been worried about how he'd respond to me mentioning her.

Now, his face just turned stony as he muttered, "Fine."

"Fine?" I echoed, not at all convinced.

He seemed to be wrestling with something as he shifted his elbows onto he knees and clenched and unclenched his jaw several times. I could see buried aggravation rising to the surface of his restless body. His hands fisted together.

"Fine," he reiterated bitterly. "She's her same mouthy, emo, pissed-off self that she's always been. Only now, we all get to listen to a non-stop stream of her bitch-fit every time we phase. And even though she's the one who's picking fights, Sam gives _us_ crap about how we need to be more "empathetic" and "accepting," just because he feels guilty, and _obviously_ the BEST way to make up for breaking her heart is by kissing her ass. Doesn't even have the nerve to put her in her place. Oh, and her favorite new past time is thinking about all of times she and Sam hooked up in her basement in _extreme_ detail. So then we're all thinking about Sam and Leah getting it on, including Sam, who then just feels even guiltier—if that's possible. And so he tries to just think about Emily, and I really just do not need any of those mental pictures. I mean, we all slip every once awhile on that kinda stuff, but to have it going non-stop…"

He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed a long, drawn out sigh before glancing up at me guiltily. "Sorry I said bitch-fit."

"I'll let it slide…this time," I said distracted, too busy with trying to take in the whirlwind of information he'd just provided me to be worried about his foul language.

"Kinda puts traditional daytime TV to shame, doesn't it?" He tried to sound amused, but I could hear the underlying frustration straining his voice.

No kidding.

"You know, Jake," I said carefully, looking down at my soup in thought, "maybe Leah just needs to vent."

"Oh, believe me, she does," he muttered. "There's plenty of her hot air going around."

"Maybe she needs to talk to someone who's a bit more distanced from things, someone who's not capable of knowing everything she's thinking…" I let the suggestion hang between us, and it took all of three seconds for Jacob to pick up on what I was implying.

"You?" he asked incredulously, staring at me like I'd just offered myself up as the virginal sacrifice. "_You_ want to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with the person who nearly ripped you in two?" He sounded torn between dark amusement and anger.

"It wasn't her fault," I said defensively. "She couldn't control—"

"Exactly!" he interrupted, the anger winning out. "And if you think I'm going to let her anywhere near you until she has _anything_ but perfect control, then you've lost it completely!"

Indignant anger flared inside of me. "What about when Paul lost control around me? And you didn't have a problem with me being around Quil just shortly after he phased for the first time. _He_ couldn't have been perfect!"

"The entire pack was in the room if anything had happened," he shot back and then with finality said, "I'm not leaving you alone with her."

"It could have happened to anyone. There is no perfect! Anyone could lose control at a bad moment, and yet you don't have a problem with me being alone with Embry, Sam, Jared, or even Paul…"

In the blink of an eye, Jacob was on his feet, hands thrown up, voice frantic with desperation as he bellowed, "Because _they_ didn't almost take you from me!"

I stared.

As my anger deflated and shriveled under the force of his pain, I grasped blindly for a way to soothe him. "Jake…you didn't lose me." Shifting the soup to one hand, I reached out to grab one of his clenched fists. "I'm fine."

With a light thud and a humorless laugh, he sunk back onto the coffee table. "You're not fine, Bella. This," he gestured to my middle, "isn't fine."

As if they'd heard the reminder, the nerves of abdomen flared up in pain, and I was barely able to suppress a wince. "It'll heal," I offered. It sounded weak even to me.

Jacob continued to stare at the blankets I was carefully swathed in. The emotions that worked across his face were easily deciphered—werewolf or no he was still my open book, and I saw the fury in his slanted eyebrows, the puzzlement in his wrinkled forehead, the remorse in his lowered eyes, the determination in his set jaw; I saw all of this like bold, black words typed against clean white paper. There was no second-guessing where Jacob stood.

When he spoke he struggled to keep his voice sounding controlled. "I've always known that we're dangerous. I mean, we hunt _vampires_, so we kinda have to be. It's our job to protect humans." Though his eyes remained on the blankets, his restless fingers began picking at the fray of his shorts, and that one nervous gesture revealed just how hard this was for him to say. "So, when I heard the truth about what happened to Emily…I was shocked. The instinct to protect, especially the ones we love, is so freakin' strong that I couldn't imagine ever consciously hurting someone." He shook his head slowly. "So I just sort of wrote Sam's incident off as a freak accident, a once in a lifetime slip. Like imprinting." A small bitter smile played across his lips. "But I was wrong about that too, wasn't I?"

Sitting there, glued to the couch by my injury and his weighty words, I could only squeeze his hand in reassurance.

"Before…the other day, I never once thought that you were in danger around the pack. Ever. I know those guys better than I know myself sometimes. I've literally been in their heads, and while they can definitely be immature asses, I know that they would gnaw off their own legs before using our…power…to hurt somebody."

At that point I couldn't _not _say something. This had to stop. I couldn't take it a moment longer. Jacob deserved to have that faith in his brothers…and sister, and I refused to have it lost on account of me.

"Jacob," I said sternly, forcefully tugging on his hand until he looked me in the eye. His dark brown eyes were intense and set in a determination I hadn't seen since I'd looked into amber eyes for the last time months ago in the woods. "Jacob. It. Was. An. Accident." I said each word slowly and purposefully. "I know none of them would ever purposely do that to me."

His fingers ran up the length of my forearm. "I know that, too," he conceded. "And I'm not angry with Leah really, well, not for phasing when she didn't have control, anyway. It's just…" He let out a frustrated breath, and I could see him searching for the most direct, clear words. "It just made me realize how _human_ you are, I guess. I mean, you dated a vampire and now you hang out with werewolves, and sometimes I just forget you're just…you." He looked up at me from beneath his lashes, a slightly rueful grin on his lips. "I find you so amazing that I don't think about the fact you don't turn into a oversized dog too, you know?"

I lowered my gaze self-consciously to my lap. "Does that…bother you?"

"Jesus, Bells. No!" My head shot up at his outburst, and I couldn't tell if he was amused or offended. "I love you for you. Inability to walk safely in a straight line and all." The smile fell from his face. "But, it made me realize that I don't have all of this figured out yet; I'm still learning how to take care of you. You take more looking after than I originally thought." His lips quirked again.

"So you're not returning me to the pound?" I attempted a lame joke, but the very real anxiety in my voice ruined it.

Jacob snorted. "I wish. They told me they wouldn't take you back. Something about you emotionally scarring some golden retriever. I think Mike was his name?"

I pinched the skin on his arm, but he just laughed. Probably didn't feel a damn thing. "That's not funny," I muttered but blushed because that's how I'd first pictured Mike myself. God, how did he know me so well?

We stared at each other, basking in the renewed warmth for several moments until Jacob's infectious smile slowly crumbled into a hard, trembling line. His eyes turned glassy.

The atmosphere turned heavy and cold.

His breathing hitched. "God," he whispered, "I thought I was going to lose you."

He looked so lost, so torn, that I felt my own heart squeeze in grief. I shook my head slowly back and forth. "No, Jake."

A loud shuddering breath _wooshed_ out of his lungs. His eyes blinked furiously to fight off tears. "To see you lying there, pinned to the ground beneath her, beneath _me_…and to see and smell the blood pooling…" He trailed off breathlessly before rasping out, "And then you were just gone."

The bowl of soup lying forgotten on the floor, I reached for Jacob and pulled him to me, not stopping until he was sitting on the side of the couch, one hand in my hair, his body hunched over mine, my lips pressed to his neck—the highest part of him I could reach. He trembled around me.

"I can't lose you, Bells."

"You wont. Remember?" I pressed a finger to his chest. "Algae Eater." Then I pointed to myself. "Dirty fish tank. You're stuck."

I could feel his watery smile against the top of my head. "It was a miracle," he sighed. "You're alive, and I'm so grateful for that, but…how?"

A question I hadn't allowed myself to consider. There was no logical explanation as to why I'd closed my eyes beneath Leah's hulking wolf form and had opened them under a canopy of forest trees. The entire pack had witnessed it through Leah's mind. They had witnessed me vanishing into thin air. And then Embry found me just a minute later, a mile away. How did you explain that?

"I don't know."

* * *

The next morning Emily came through my front door, calling my name quietly as she stepped inside.

"I'm in here," I yelled from my seemingly permanent location on the sofa, and she appeared in the living room with a small pot in her hands.

"I made you some oatmeal," she said with a small smile. It smelled heavenly.

"Thank you. Though you really didn't have to." I felt like a helpless moocher.

She just shook her head before walking into the kitchen. "I thought we'd get you showered before changing your bandages," she said from the other room.

"Um, okay?"

Suddenly I was relieved that I'd forced Charlie out of the house an hour earlier. Originally he'd called off work so that he could stay home and watch over me on my first full day back from the hospital. But quite frankly the thought of Charlie sitting in his recliner watching as I lay on couch dying of boredom was slightly mortifying. Also, he might have been my dad, but there was no way I was going to ask him to help me shower.

Another warm voice filled the small house as Embry's head popped into view. "Did I hear someone ask for a knight in shinning armor?"

I didn't bother hiding my surprise. "Um, hey, Embry. Not that it's not great to see you, but shouldn't you…you know, be in school?"

"Nah," he said with a shrug of his bare, broad shoulders, "school and I weren't really getting along. Too many missed days and late assignments. They don't take the whole 'dog ate my homework' excuse very seriously, even when you're being literal."

"So, you dropped out?" I said lightly, doing my best not to sound judgmental, which I wasn't. It was just that, from what I'd hear from Jake, Embry was a pretty smart guy who excelled in school—at least before the boys were turning into werewolves. Jacob and Quil used to give him grief about being a nerd, but there had been no disguising the respect in their voices. They'd admired him for it.

"You kidding me? My mom would freak out if I didn't graduate." He scratched the back of his neck. "I'm finishing up my high school degree online."

"You can do that?"

"I certainly hope so, otherwise I'm getting scammed into reading Shakespeare and dishing out a nice chunk of change for nothing."

Embry explained that he was here to help with the heavy lifting, i.e. carrying me up the steps and eventually back down again.

"You know, you guys all like to brag about how strong you are, but this is the second time I've had a werewolf insinuate that I'm heavy."

Embry's brow furrowed. "Insinuating? I thought I was being pretty direct."

"Embry Call."

He smiled at Emily's scolding and walked over to the sofa where he crouched and opened his arms to me. "Okay, just like in the dress rehearsal, doll face." I scowled at the nickname but allowed him to slide his arms beneath my back and knees. "Wait," he said, pausing before he lifted me, "you want me to run and get the ketchup from the fridge so I can give you a few squirts? For effect? I'm not quite getting the same thrill I did last time."

I was glad we could joke about that. "No, but if you want I can moan and pretend that I'm about to pass out."

"Wouldn't hurt."

It wasn't the first time an injury had required me to need assistance in the bath, and I found that with Emily it wasn't quite as embarrassing as it had been when Alice helped after James broke my leg. Emily quietly hummed the entire time she sat behind me on the tub, and when she lathered a loofah with soap to gently scrub my back or massaged conditioner into my scalp, I felt like a child being cared for by their mother and not a Barbie doll being tweaked to perfection. It was soothing, and I got the feeling that she enjoyed taking care of me.

The only drawback was that Emily didn't possess superhuman strength, and I couldn't stand up of my own volition. So when we had finished and the tub was drained of dirty, sudsy water, Emily managed to wrap a towel around my body but had to call for Embry to come lift me out and carry me to my room where she would bandage me back up.

He nervously entered the bathroom with a hand slapped over his eyes asking, "Is everything covered? 'Cause I really don't want to die, and Jacob can be very, very scary when he gets the inclination. And me seeing parts of you that he hasn't would most definitely give him the inclination."

I was beet red the entire time Embry was carrying me to my room and even for several minutes after he had laid me down on the bed. It didn't sit well with me that he knew what parts of me Jacob had and hadn't seen. If I remembered correctly, Jacob _had_ said something about everybody 'slipping up' every once in a while with their thoughts.

Ugh. That meant the rest of the pack had to know too. The thought caused me to groan.

"Oh, sorry. Is that too tight?" Emily asked in concern.

"No. No, I was just thinking…" I cleared my throat, as I considered taking advantage of this time alone with her to get her perspective on a few questions that I'd been mulling over. Emily was close to the pack, and could very well be considered a part of it given her relationship with Sam and her mothering ways with the rest of the boys. It was a good possibility that she had the insight that I needed. "Emily?"

"Hm?"

"How's Leah doing?"

She didn't respond for several seconds. "She feels terrible." At my blank look she continued, "She doesn't say it out loud, and she might not allow herself to think on it when she's phased, but I know that she feels awful about what she did to you."

I wasn't sure how to respond. Leah was…well, Leah. She wasn't big on things like guilt, pity, or concern for others. Or, if she was, she definitely didn't show it. Once or twice I had caught a glimmer of genuine emotion from the self-exiled teen, but it didn't seem likely that she'd open up to Emily of all people. Perhaps she was better at reading Leah than I was. From what Jacob had told me, they had been really close at one time.

"I'd really like to get the chance to talk to her," I hedged.

"Well, I don't imagine that will be happening for a while," Emily said quietly while pulling an oversized t-shirt gently over my head.

I couldn't keep the scowl off of my face as I responded with, "Yeah, that's what Jacob sort of hinted at when I asked him. He's just being stubborn and overprotective."

Sitting back on the bed Emily opened her mouth and hesitated before saying, "Bella, you need to understand that Jacob is doing what he thinks is best for you. He's trying to keep you safe."

"By telling me who I can and can't see?" I said testily and immediately felt bad because it was Emily and she would never get snippy back.

She didn't even bat an eye. "Jacob feels like he failed to protect you. And—" She held up a hand to keep me from interrupting. "However you may view it, Jacob didn't keep you safe. Now he's reanalyzing his behavior and taking precautions to keep something like that from happening again. You are, for all intents and purposes, his mate—"

"But," I cut her off, "I'm not…I mean, I'm not his imprint."

She smiled warmly at me. "He loves you."

Those three words knocked the air from my lungs. Of course, I'd heard Jacob tell me he loved me before; and while it always sent a surge of warmth and affection through me, there was always that nagging sensation in the back of my mind. At first I'd assumed it was guilt, guilt that I couldn't say the words back. But after feeling it over and over again, I came to realize it wasn't guilt, but doubt. It was a voice whispering, "He thinks he loves you, but he doesn't know just how broken you are. He doesn't know any better."

Hearing the words from someone else, someone who was in a committed, passionate, loving relationship was almost humbling. Jacob loved me. Emily said it like it was a fact, not one that could be analyzed or explained, but a truth that was backed with gut feeling and a simple sense of rightness.

Emily leaned forward to place a hand on my arm. "Jacob loves you, Bella," she repeated, and my heart skipped a beat. "Let him do what he feels he needs to do in order to make things right. Just for a while. Be glad it's protectiveness, and not self-loathing, that he's turned to."

I could only nod at her soft pleading.

* * *

**AN:** I love Embry. 3

For those of you who don't have me on author alert, keep an eye out for a J/B one-shot that I'll be posting in the next couple of days entitled "Thunder Cake." The style is more like "The Crimson" than "Zenith," but maybe that's a turn-on and not a turn-off? IDK, read it and tell me what you think.

So many wonderful reviews last chapter! And there seems to be a few newcomers to the story, so welcome, welcome. Feel free to ask me questions or just say "hi." I don't bite. But I do have a tendency to make awful jokes, so I guess there's _that_ to be frightened of. ^.^


	14. Constellations

**Zenith**

_Chapter Fourteen – Constellations_

* * *

One night the dream ceased to be a dream and became something more.

I could feel the wind blowing across my cheek, could smell the stench of ash it carried, could see it whip through the woman's unbound hair, could taste the smoke, could hear the accusatory words it carried from over my shoulder.

"You, Felicity Swan, have been charged with and found guilty of consorting with the Devil. You have partaken in the black magic of witchcraft and the corruption of innocent children in your attempts to seduce them from the righteous path of the Lord God Almighty. Your body will now be burned to ash, charred black in likeness of your soul. Be gone from this Earth, Devil's vessel!"

"No!" The scream leapt from my throat as I whirled on the bent old man who stood behind me. Couldn't he see that he was wrong? This woman wasn't evil. She was innocent and good and loyal; I could feel it in my bones. The very warmth of her soul called out to me.

But the man just lowered his bony finger and stared at the burning pyre with contempt.

I turned back to the woman—this Felicity—and looked at her imploringly, silently begging her to tell me what I could do to save her. In that moment I realized I'd do anything if meant saving her. But she too listlessly ignored me, starring off into the distance as black smoke rose and crystalline tears fell. Like every other night, she continued to burn.

But then, as the greedy fire licked up the white cotton of her skirt, she turned clear brown eyes to mine and, for the first time, looked _at_ me instead of _through_ me.

"Don't be afraid." Her voice was steady and prevailing, slicing through the clouds of smoke to ring in my ears. "We all burn eventually."

Waking up felt like entering a dream world. In contrast to the vision—memory?—I'd just left behind, everything seemed fuzzy and distant. Even after standing and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I needed to go back to bed in order to wake up.

So, groggy—and more than a little grumpy—I slowly made my way through my established morning routine.

Monday was the first day I'd been able to get up and move about on my own without assistance, and so on Wednesday I'd started back at school for a half day, spending the afternoon on the couch submerged in make-up reading and missed assignments—even though the previous week Angela had been kind enough to bring me school work almost every day.

Today was Friday, and between making it through the previous school day and making it through my nightmares, I was burned out.

As far as the uphill battle of school went, I was on my own. But the repetitive dreams were starting to worry me, and I had decided that talking to Jacob about them might be helpful—since he had a knack for deciphering all things me-related.

Jacob…

God bless Jacob Black.

He'd been amazing during the past week. No, more than amazing. He'd been _miraculous_. I wasn't sure how he managed to put up with my grouchy, tired, immobile self without completely losing it. _I_ would've dumped me.

Every day when Emily and Embry showed up, I half-expected them to have a letter from Jake explaining that he could no longer put up with my random bouts of crying and my constant neediness and was stepping down from his position as the stir-crazy-and-emotionally-and-physically-scarred girl's boyfriend.

Of course he showed up every afternoon after school without fail.

"Bella, you ready?"

"Yeah, Dad!" I called down the stairs, as I struggled into a thin sweater. The whole getting dressed process was now something to sweat through. The stitches weren't out yet, and I had a tendency to overcompensate for the limitations they placed on my movement—though they no longer hurt, the sensation of them pulling whenever I twisted made my skin crawl uncomfortably.

I took the stairs slowly—like I had to do _everything_ recently—and Charlie was waiting at the bottom, dressed for work with a package of Poptarts in his outstretched hand.

I accepted them gratefully. "Thanks." Charlie's latent nurturing side was manifesting a lot more frequently since the "bear attack." I was fairly certain he was nervous that the bear might still decide to come finish me off.

He led the way to the cruiser, and I managed to slide into the passenger seat with a minimal amount of discomfort. When I'd first arrived in Forks, the prospect of Charlie driving me to school had been mildly horrifying. Nothing against Charlie, but his car was like a fiery beacon of justice on wheels—not something easily ignored or forgotten. But now, I was just grateful that I didn't have to attempt climbing in and out of my truck everyday.

The drive was made in silence, Charlie only wishing me a good day as I eased out of the car in front of the school. The moment my feet hit the pavement, a hand was pulling the book bag from my arms and a blonde head was ducking inside the door.

"Hey, Chief Swan."

"Newton." Charlie nodded.

It was pointless to argue with Mike when Charlie was right there looking appreciative, so I just gave a small smile and allowed Mike to shoulder my book bag. "Bye, Dad."

As soon as he'd pulled away, I turned to Mike in exasperation. "I told you I really don't need anyone to…"

"Save it, Swan," he interrupted with a grin. "It's a book bag, not a declaration of love."

I tried really hard to believe that.

Mike and I had first period together, so he walked me all the way to my seat and even went as far as to pull my textbook from my bag and place it on my desk. Then he just stared down at me expectantly.

"Thanks," I offered.

Before things could get any more awkward, Angela took her place at the desk next to me. She eyed Mike and shot me a sympathetic look. "You feeling any better?"

"Yeah, the pain's pretty much gone." A half-truth, but I knew Mike is listening in.

"Do you know when you're getting your stitches out yet?"

"No, but I have an appointment on Monday, so maybe they'll have some good news." In reality, I wasn't overly optimistic. The damage had been extensive, and I didn't think a couple of weeks of being locked in my house was going to cut it.

"Hopefully," she smiled.

The bell had rung, but the teacher had yet to arrive, so I let my eyes wander until they settled on a very official-looking letter sitting on top of Angela's closed textbook.

"Hey," I gestured curiously, "what's that about?"

Angela blushed but was smiling widely, a spark of excitement in her eyes. "Actually it's my acceptance letter from Northwestern."

I blinked in surprise. "Wow, Angela. That's…that's impressive. Chicago, huh?" I felt terrible for not even knowing she'd applied. That's something a friend would know about, right?

She waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, I don't know. It's pretty far away—not that that's necessarily a bad thing—and it's pretty expensive. I'm not sure we can foot the bill."

"There're always scholarships, right?" I suggested encouragingly.

"Maybe." She gave a noncommittal shrug. "So have you heard back from any of the places you've applied to?"

Our teacher barking out orders as she scurried into the room saved me from having to answer that unintentionally loaded question. The truth was I _hadn't_ applied to any colleges. Most of the deadlines had passed sometime while I was in my zombie stage, and even if there were still a few that were open, did I really want to leave Forks? Leave Jacob?

If I left would Victoria follow?

I spent the majority of the morning in a haze contemplating life after high school. Jacob had said that once Victoria was gone, we'd be able to just focus on "us." But what "us" could there possibly be if I just upped and left? Honestly I didn't want to be any farther away from Jacob than absolutely necessary.

At lunch Angela talked about how the weather was finally warming up to the point where hanging out at the beach would be tolerable and invited me and Jacob to double date with her and Ben once I was back to full health.

"We could make a picnic out of it," she offered enthusiastically. I told her I would consult with Jacob. Really we were one of those non-dating couples, so I wasn't sure if he'd be up to a double shot of it at once. Not to mention that Jacob was a little busy with…extra-curricular activities.

By the time school let out, the skies had cleared of their usual thickly layered cloud cover, allowing the rarely seen sun to shine through. The warm rays were a welcomed change, and I tilted my head back so they could wash over my face. The parking lot was buzzing with students anxiously heading home for the weekend—arranging get-togethers, gossiping, sharing plans to sleep in after an all-night Jet Li marathon—and I was content to bask in the striking normalcy of the moment. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience: surreal and impossible.

I was brought back to reality by somebody brushing against my shoulder in his rush to escape to his car, and as I watched after his retreating form, I caught sight of the Rabbit parked just a few yards away. Jacob was clearly visible through the windshield. His face relaxed as he leaned back against the headrest, Jacob stared at me with a soft smile and an admiring look in his eye.

The heat from the sun was quickly forgotten in the wake of the spiraling rush of warmth that rose up inside of me at the sight of Jacob staring at me like _that_. I returned the look with a stupid smile of my own and almost face-planted on the concrete in my rush to get into the car.

As I got situated in the passenger seat, Jacob was looking at my school bag in annoyance. I looked between him and the object in question. "What? Do you have something against brown?"

"That Mick character's still hounding you." Right, because Jacob can _smell_ my stalkers.

"_Mike_'s just trying to be nice," I found myself saying, and it had more to do with soothing Jacob than defending Mike. I had been enjoying our mutual good mood too much to let it be ruined by Mike of all people.

He snorted. "Well, you should know that I've taken your advice into consideration, and I _am_ going to have T-shirts made up. Just with a few _slight _revisions." He thrust his hands out in front of him like a philosophical visionary, cleared his throat, and said, "'Jacob's Bitch. So back the fuck off.' For 15 bucks I can get you these cute matching boy shorts…"

"Jacob Black!" I let out a strangled noise that was stuck somewhere between shock and aggravation. "I let you get away with cursing _once_ and…"

"You give me an inch, I run a mile," he shrugged matter-of-factly. "It's the werewolf speed."

"Lesson learned," I sighed.

"You know that by 'bitch' I mean—"

Blushing, I cut him off. "I know what you mean." My attempt to scowl failed miserably when, from the corner of my eye, I caught the smirk stretched across Jacob's face. Instead I rolled my eyes heavenward and fought off my own grin. "You've been spending too much time with Quil."

"Guilty as charged." He turned out of the school parking lot and down the main street that ran through Forks. "And you've been spending too much time with Embry. You've mastered his 'why do I put up with these mere mortals?' eye roll. Obnoxious but very effective."

Jacob was trying to sound teasing, but something about his tone was off, and he didn't look amused anymore. I studied him carefully. "Jake, you know I'm not really upset with you, right?" Teenage boys liked to swear every once in a while. I got that.

"I know." But that strange look didn't go away. The lighthearted atmosphere was quickly dissipating.

Once we'd pulled into my driveway and turned off the car, we sat in silence for almost a full minute. It wasn't awkward, just unsettling.

"Hey," I ventured eventually, "what's up?"

"It's just…" He trailed off in a frustrated sigh.

"What?"

He groaned up at the car ceiling. "God, I'm gonna sound like such a little girl."

I waited patiently and pointedly for him to continue.

When he saw that I wasn't going to give him an out, he relented. "Ugh. Fine. Over the past week, Embry's been coming over to help Emily take care of you and just to hang out."

I nodded an affirmative even though it wasn't a question.

"You guys have gotten closer." Jacob continued to stare resolutely through the windshield, avoiding any and all eye contact. "I don't like it."

Quickly I attempted to decipher the hidden implication of the last statement. _What _exactly didn't he like? Was he worried that I was taking his best friend—almost brother—from him? Because that would be ridiculous. I was just a charity case.

"Look, Jake, I know you and Embry are close, and I would never try to intrude on your friendship."

"It's not that," he huffed, and I could tell he was annoyed with himself and not with my lack of understanding. "I…I don't like him being close to you."

Oh.

_Oh._

Jacob was jealous. Of Embry.

I opened my mouth to say to say that Embry was just trying to be nice but bit my lip when I realized that's exactly what I had said about Mike, and it'd been less than the truth. Suddenly I wasn't sure how to proceed. A hormonal Mike was one thing, but Embry was Jacob's pack brother, and any hard feelings between the two had the potential to be devastating.

My silence couldn't possibly be helping things, so I reached out to him, and his easy acceptance of hand let me know he at least wasn't angry with me. "Embry and I _have _gotten closer. Actually, I think I'd even consider us to be friends. But that's it," I told him firmly.

He rubbed a hand down his face, nodding. He looked self-consciously away. "I know, I know. It's just…I want to be the one to take care of you. And I haven't been."

"What do you mean?" I was shocked. All he'd been doing since I'd been hurt was take care of me. "Jacob, you're the only reason I haven't gone completely insane since I've left the hospital."

When he still looked unconvinced I tried a different approach. "Would you feel better if I let you carry me up the stairs?"

Finally there was a twitch of his lips. "Do I get to help you shower too?"

"That didn't work out so well last time," I reminded him with a dirty look.

"Only because you still had clothes on. If you'd been naked, I have a feeling we would've been much more successful."

Jacob mentioning me and nakedness in the same sentence was enough to bring a heavy blush to my cheeks, and I hastily cleared my throat before redirecting the conversation. "You _do_ take care of me Jacob. More than anyone else." If I'd been physically capable of it, I would have leaned up and over and kissed him, but being mindful of my wounds, I pressed my lips to his palm instead, letting my tongue sweep over the salty skin there for the briefest of moments. I rolled the flavor of him around in my mouth.

Jacob's eyes darkened almost imperceptibly. "Do you have plans tonight?"

"To be with you."

"Good,"—he grinned—"We're going out."

Jacob told me he'd come pick me up at nine o'clock . When I questioned the late hour, he just gave a patronizing promise to have me back home by bedtime.

"You better. After eleven I start getting grumpy."

"Yeah, not all that threatening, Bells. Dealing with a grumpy you is like dealing with a sleepy, slightly constipated Teletubby. I think I can handle it—dopey, fake smiles and all."

Needless to say, he didn't get a goodbye kiss.

I managed to put together a decent dinner for Charlie and me, and stuck it in the fridge before swallowing some painkillers and collapsing in bed for a well-deserved three hour nap. Around eight, I awoke to the sounds of Sports Center drifting up the stairs through my cracked door. Aside from being slightly stiff, I felt all right and was more than slightly pleased to find that getting out of bed and changing into less wrinkled clothes wasn't as painful as it had been that morning.

Just as I was about to start down the steps, Jacob's massive form appeared in front me, seemingly out of nowhere. I wheeled backward and would have crashed painfully onto my backside if Jacob hadn't scooped me up into his arms just in the nick of time.

"Geeze, Bells. Can't even handle going down the stairs by yourself? Guess I'll just have to carry you!"

"I can handle the stairs just fine when there isn't a seven foot wall in my way," I grumbled. "Now put me down."

"But you said I could carry you," he explained and proceeded down the steps with me in his arms anyway. "Unless you've reconsidered my offer to help you show—"

"Hey, Dad!" I brightly interrupted before Jacob ended up with a gunshot wound and I ended up passed out on the floor from all the blood. Of course, Jacob just snickered quietly as he set me lightly down on my feet. And people told me _I_ had no sense of self-preservation. "Did you find the stew I left in the refrigerator?"

Charlie nodded enthusiastically as he exited the kitchen. "Yeah, kiddo, it was great. Though you really didn't need to exert yourself like that. I'm not completely lost in the kitchen, you know."

"Dad, you're like a blind man set loose in the middle of Manhattan." I decided not to call him out on being overly concerned—again—about me being up on my feet and just told myself this was his way of showing me he cared. "Really, it was no big deal."

"Yeah," Jacob chimed in from over my shoulder. "Cooking actually makes her _happy_." At Charlie's disbelieving look, Jacob held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, I don't understand it either, but I'm not gonna complain if it keeps me fed. Besides, she's so cute when she gets all domestic."

He stared down at me with an adoring look, and I just knew that he was imagining me standing in his kitchen dressed in a pink frilly apron, stirring a boiling pot with one hand and running a vacuum with the other. The dormant feminist in me stamped her foot and reminded me I should be offended, but a big part of me really didn't mind the idea of standing in Jacob's kitchen and taking care of him—minus the unnecessary apron, of course.

"You should eat." Jacob nudged me towards the kitchen, where I poured myself a small bowl of the soup and plucked it into the microwave. As it slowly revolved, I turned my attention to the boy leaning back against the kitchen sink.

"You're here early," I pointed out after glancing over at the clock.

He shrugged. "Couldn't stay away."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot and from making it painfully obvious just how elated that simple fact made me. "I'm glad."

Jacob had already helped himself to the stew while I was sleeping, so he sat in the living room with Charlie and watched highlights from the Mariners game while I quickly ate.

By quarter 'till nine, we were out the door, Charlie wishing us a good time from his recliner. Strangely enough, he didn't mention anything about curfew.

I started towards the Rabbit, but Jacob grabbed my hand and led me towards my truck instead. After lifting me into the passenger seat, he hurried around to the driver's side, where he enthusiastically hopped in and revved the engine. His obvious excitement was infectious, and I found my toes tapping in anticipation.

"So, where are we going?" I asked as we headed down the street and then turned down the road that led away from town.

Jacob gasped incredulously. "And ruin the surprise? Bells, I happen to know for a fact that you love a good surprise. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I stole all of those precious moments of anticipation from you? How could I ever look you in the eye knowing that I was the one who answered those heart-pounding questions running like crazy through your mind: Are we going someplace public? Is he taking me somewhere secluded where he'll try to have his way with me? Will there be music? Candles? Did I wear the right clothes? Will I be able to keep my hands off his ripped, irresistible body? Will I—"

"Okay, okay!" I relented, giggling. Gah. Why couldn't I stop smiling? I did take the correct dosage of my medication, right? "It's a surprise; I get it." Feeling that I had let him off the hook too easily, I added, "But that doesn't mean I like it."

"Yeah, I know. You're _grumpy_. Got it."

At first I thought we we're heading to La Push, but too soon Jacob made a northward turn down a dirt road I'd never noticed before. Eventually we were driving off-road, leaving behind any signs of civilization. When we stopped, it was too dark to make out much of our surroundings, but I was pretty sure we were in a wide, barren clearing surrounded on three sides by a distant tree line.

As soon as we were parked, Jacob was out of the truck, but he didn't come to help me down right away. He vanished out of sight for several moments and—just when I was starting to get antsy—reappeared at my door with that bright smile lighting up his entire face as he bounced eagerly on his toes. My insides were reduced to goo.

With a practiced ease, he hulled me into his arms and carried me around to the back of the truck—where the rear gate was pulled down—and placed me in the truck bed. Immediately I took note of the generous pile of blankets spread out atop the rusted metal and the couple of pillows up nearer to the cab. I raised an eyebrow as Jacob hopped up next to me. "You weren't joking about finding a secluded place to have you're way with me, were you?"

He sighed, muttered something about my mind and the gutter, and then scooted back farther onto the makeshift bed. "Come'ere."

I crawled over to where he was sprawled out on his back and nestled into his side. "Really, Jake? A truck? Where's the roma—oh."

Reduced to silence by sight before me, I tilted my head back to get a better view. The sky was not just a sky. At least, it wasn't the usual muddled blue/black smudge that blanketed Forks at night. No, this sky was black as pitch with hundreds and hundreds of gleaming pinpricks lighting the vast expanse. Stars. I'd never seen so many stars. Not in Phoenix and certainly not in overcast Forks.

The sight of all of these….these burning balls of gas, that were unfathomable distances away, coming together to collectively shine here, of all places, was humbling. And it was reassuring in that it demonstrated my own insignificance; my problems really weren't that big.

"Jake, it's…"

"I know."

Where I saw a jumbled spattering of stars, Jacob saw constellations. And with each one he pointed out, I was more or less able to recite the myth that accompanied it. We passed the better part of an hour like this, his cheek pressed to mine as I followed his tracing finger, my lips brushing against the shell of his ear as I murmured ancient tale of heroes and villains—If I didn't know the story behind a particular grouping of stars, I'd make one up, Jacob offering his own unlikely plot twists every once in a while.

Once we'd lulled into a peaceful silence, I was reluctant to break it, but I'd promised myself earlier in the day that I'd have this talk with him and was determined to see it through.

"Jake, you know how I've been really tired lately? Even before the accident," I added for clarification.

He nodded, eyes still on the sky. "Before I figured that you were just having trouble sleeping. Nightmares or something. Now with the medication and the injuries, I just assumed that your body's healing."

I smiled against his shoulder. He knew me so well. "I was having bad dreams before. And I still am now."

"Are they about the Cullens?" It was the first time I'd heard some level of objectivity in his voice when mentioning vampires of any sort, and I took it as a sign of growth, something I'd helped him to achieve. A swell of pride washed over me.

"No, not about the Cullens." My fingers absently began tracing the lettering on his worn t-shirt. "There's this woman…and I don't recognize her, but there's something about her that's…familiar. Like I know her without knowing her." I sighed in frustration. "I'm not explaining it right."

His nose nudged mine in encouragement. "No, I understand perfectly. That's kinda how it is with the pack. Something in me just recognizes the wolf in them." He trailed off quietly. "That's one of the reasons I'm so mad I didn't recognize Leah—"

I pressed my hand to his mouth to silence him. "Let's not talk about that tonight," I pleaded softly. At his nod of assent, I continued, "Well, I'm not sure if there's anything wolf-like about her; she's beautiful, but sort of fragile looking—but just in her physical features. Inside there's this unmistakable strength and courage. She's passionate." Images of the dream passed through my mind, eliciting strong emotion from me. "Even though she knows her end is coming, she's not afraid to meet it. She…she cries but not for herself. She cries for the people who are accusing her, sentencing her."

Jacob was watching me closely. "What happens to her?"

Wetness blurs my vision, and I had to blink the tears away. "She dies."—I swallowed—"Burned at the stake. Every time."

Jacob's hand moved to palm my face. "I'm sorry."

I sniffed and cleared my throat. "Me too. I just wish I knew what it all meant. I mean, every night it happens exactly the same, only everything keeps getting clearer. Now it feels more like a memory than a dream. And then there's the question about how I vanished and turned up in the woods. From what you've told me, it sounds like it happened almost instantaneously. And that's…that's impossible."

"Bella," Jacob said, sounding skeptical, "you date a werewolf. You _dated_ a vampire. Is there anything you can really rule out?"

I nodded my head resolutely. "Physics is physics, Jake. People—or anything at all really—can't just teleport from one place to another. It defies the laws of the physical world."

"Yeah, and turning into a giant dog is completely natural."

"For you."

"Well maybe teleporting is natural for _you_," he countered.

I rolled my eyes. "That's ridiculous." But I didn't have a better explanation.

Jacob arched his neck to whisper in my ear, "I consider it more of a miracle. Let's leave it at that for now."

There really was no use in trying to explain it when we weren't even sure what exactly we were trying to explain, so I lightly bobbed my head in agreement before inching my lips up to catch his. "Okay."

He responded eagerly, returning the kiss while a hand slid back to tangle in my hair. I sighed in contentment, and, as my lips parted, so did Jacob's, his tongue sliding out to caress mine. I froze at the alien sensation of someone else in my mouth, but the hesitation lasted no longer than a heartbeat before I was aching for him to delve deeper. I drew my tongue down the side of his.

A rumbling groan shook his chest, causing me to shiver pleasantly. The pressure on the on the small of my back increased as he pulled me closer, drawing me in until we were lying on our sides chest-to-chest. The friction our position caused against my bandaged stitches was unpleasant, but I _really_ didn't mind as long as Jacob kept doing that thing with his teeth.

However, Jacob apparently _did_ mind. "Sorry," he mumbled breathlessly, pulling his face away until only our gasping breaths were mingling.

"No," I groaned pathetically. I needed his mouth back on me now.

He chuckled at my impatience, and the deep sound sent electrifying tingles coursing straight to my toes. My hand creeping up his sinewy abdomen beneath his shirt abruptly cut his laughter short. With renewed vigor he pushed me onto my back before climbing on top of me. His weight resting on his elbows on either of my head, he hovered over me, our torsos no longer crushed together. "Better?" he asked with a teasing sort-of-smile.

Not really. I liked it better when our entire bodies were touching.

To prove my point, I raised my hips up to grind against his, and the sting of my stretching abdomen was forgotten in wake of the rolling waves of heat that churned aggressively as our lower bodies met through thin layers of jean and cotton. We both gasped.

"Bells," he moaned breathlessly, and I couldn't tell if he was reprimanding or encouraging. So I repeated the action. This time, he was ready and met me with equal force. It felt like my entire body was singing for him.

I watched as his powerful form shuddered above me, and this overwhelming urge to be a part of that, to tremble with him, stole through me with undeniable force. Hooking my arms around his neck, I pulled and arched my back until we were once again entwined.

"Uh…God…Bella," he breathed, and I knew exactly what he meant. But more than words, I wanted him to tremble again for me again.

Simultaneously I rocked my hips and placed an openmouthed kiss over his Adam's apple and was rewarded with a full body shiver that caused my heart to soar. Jacob wanted me. Jacob would always want me.

And then a piercing howl broke into the silent night.

Engrossed as I was in Jacob, it took several moments for me to process the sound and even longer for Jacob.

"Jake, is that…"

His passion-filled eyes snapped up to mine. "Huh?"

"That." The howl sounded again. "Isn't that, um, one of the guys?"

His brow puckered as he listened. Then his head dropped as he swore. "Ugh. If that's Quil trying to be funny, I'm gonna—"

"Hurry back," I instructed, giving him a quick kiss. He stared down at me for several seconds, and I wondered if he was really considering not going. "It could be important," I reasoned.

He sighed in resignation. "Sure, sure."

I watched as he pulled off his shirt and shoes, admiring how the moonlight struck his russet skin, causing it to glow. He was so beautiful.

Effortlessly he hopped from the truck to the ground but then leaned back in to give my thigh a gentle squeeze. "Don't go anywhere."

I answered him with a meaningful look. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He grinned and turned to disappear into the night.

I laid back in the truck bed, staring up at the stars as my breathing finally returned to it's normal tempo. I could feel the silly smile on my face but didn't care. That—the feeling, and the shaking and the kissing—had been amazing. Shocking and unexpected, but amazing.

Jacob not only loved me but wanted me, as well. And—if my reaction was any indication—the feeling was mutual.

I sighed and ran a hand down my face in wonder.

I still hadn't told Jacob that I was in love with him. Sure, I had told Embry to tell Jacob how I felt, but Jacob had deflected any of my efforts to reaffirm the sentiments myself. He was being unreasonable, I thought. I knew that he was worried that this was too much too fast, that I really wasn't absolutely positive about my feelings. But, darn it, he was just going to have to trust me on this one.

I was going to tell him the moment he got back, and he would have to deal with it.

Fifteen minutes went by and no sign of Jacob, wolf or boy. There hadn't been any more howling, which I had taken as a good sign, but whatever it was must have been pretty serious if they were still meeting up.

Feeling antsy, I slid out of the truck, wincing when the skin of my stomach stretched painfully. Maybe I had been a little too enthusiastic with Jacob.

I shrugged. It'd been worth it.

Toeing off my shoes, I wriggled my feet in the cool grass and paced several yards away from the truck. After spending so long cooped up in the house, I was starting to truly appreciate the openness of the great outdoors.

A quick scan of the trees was fruitless—since I really couldn't make out much of anything more than twenty feet away—but as I turned in a slow circle, a telling shiver began working it's way up my spine.

_Something_ was out there.

I wasn't sure how I knew, but I was certain that I wasn't alone.

"Jacob?" I called out tentatively. No response. Then I remembered what Jacob had said about the pack messing around. "Quil, if this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny." Still nothing. I started feeling nervous.

Taking a step forward—in the direction I knew was _toward_ whatever it was that was out there—I called out again, "W-who's there?"

Shadows shifted as something emerged from the dense cover of trees. Moonlight caught pale white skin that didn't just glow, but _shined_. A perfect, inhumanly beautiful face and piercing eyes slowly materialized.

My heart stuttered.

"Edward."

* * *

**AN:** Some announcements: First, my J/B one shot "Thunder Cake" is now posted. However I must urge you to NOT READ IT ON FFNET. I do some unique formatting with the story text that FFnet wont let me do here, so if you go to the "Thunder Cake" story in my profile there is a LJ web address inside at the top where you can read the story in its true form. You can also search for it on Twilighted.

Second, theair_thesun is hosting Jacob/Bella fanfiction awards. The categories are fun and a little crazy, and the first wave of nominations opened this past Friday. Go here for more info: http:/community[dot]livejournal[dot]com/theair_thesun/55775[dot]html

Thank you to everyone who keeps talking to me via review!


	15. Returns

**Zenith**

_Chapter Fifteen – Returns_

* * *

For the first time in my life, I was truly afraid of Edward Cullen.

There, standing in that dark clearing—with him not fifteen yards away—I was terrified. My breaths grew faster, my legs trembled, my stomach rolled. The agony I had worked so diligently to banish was stirred to a raging boil inside my chest. An overflow of adrenaline coursed through my veins.

I felt like I was falling from a precipice, and it was too dark to see the bottom.

Like the masochist I was, I couldn't bring myself to look away from his burning eyes as they scorched hot trails over my body, marking me in new ways, when I'd thought that no more damage could possibly be done.

"Bella." His voice, an angel's sigh, carried all of the relief and longing I couldn't bring myself to feel. I was still very much petrified.

A shift in the wind sent a particularly strong breeze against my back. The coolness bit and nipped at my overheated skin, aggravating my flesh instead of soothing it.

I didn't even blink, and suddenly Edward was no more than a foot away. I swallowed as He looked down at me with concerned black eyes. "You're hurt."

He had no idea.

And then…he reached out. He reached out, as if he were going to actually _touch_ me. The moment I realized his intentions, I stumbled backwards out of his reach, gasping. Why? Why would he try to touch me?

Yes, I thought, ask the questions that didn't hurt.

"Bella, you're bleeding. You're injured." Yet from the anguish in his voice, it sounded as if _he_ were the one in pain. As if he were the one left alone, broken-hearted in the woods.

But he was wrong. I wasn't bleeding. Not anymore. Not for him.

He reached out again, this time with his eyes. His gaze bore into my wounded middle, and it seemed so odd that, at a moment like this, he would be worried about my physical health. Who cared about a few ripped stitches when my carefully mended heart was in danger of unraveling all together?

Protectively I wrapped my arms around my stomach, hunching my shoulders in an effort to shrink away.

He looked so torn, so broken. Gone was the resolute strength and distant expression. There was nothing of the cool stranger that had bid me an impersonal farewell in the woods all those months ago. This was an Edward I had never seen before.

"Why…" I looked upward to escape his breathtaking face. Distractedly I continued, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Awaiting a response, I silently connected the stars with my eyes, trying to focus on constellations and myths, but coming up blank on both accounts. Something about a woman chained to the rocks…

"Bella, I had to—" he broke off abruptly. There was an uncharacteristic roughness to his voice, as if he hadn't talked in a very long time. "Bella, I came to—"

"Why do you keep saying my name?" The stars were blurring together now. One was no different from another; they were all meaningless.

A beat of silence, and then,"Because it's the most beautiful word in all of the languages the world over, and I've denied myself the right to utter it for so long now." His whispered reply was almost inaudible, but his stunning, mournful eyes were screaming at me.

"That-that doesn't make any sense. Why would you say that to me?" An hour ago I could see the Big Dipper, Hydra, and Pegasus, and now I couldn't find a single one.

"Bella," he pleaded.

"Stop saying my na—"

There was a stirring in the air around me, and my eyes snapped back down to earth to find Edward crouched at my feet, the back of his shirt brushing my legs, his unruly bronze hair just a breath away. I clenched my fists to keep from reaching out and burying my hands in it.

Any questions I had regarding his aggressive stance were answered when a large russet wolf burst into the clearing from the trees.

Relief poured over me in crashing waves. Jacob.

His massive paws pounded against the ground as he sprung towards us, stopping just ten feet away when Edward let out a warning hiss. Jacob's answering growl was low, an unveiled threat. He pawed restlessly at the grass, coiling close to the ground as if about to pounce.

Edward remained perfectly still.

And I became painfully aware of the precarious situation I was in. They were trying to protect me.

From each other.

Swallowing and trying to work up some semblance of nerve, I opened my mouth and forced out a choked, "Edward."

My entreaty didn't even garner a glance. He kept his eyes firmly on Jacob's restless form.

I pushed at his tense shoulder—tried not to gasp when electricity shot up into my fingertips. "Move."

His stone form didn't budge.

I took a stilted step backwards on my unsteady feet—narrowly avoiding falling—and tried to go around him. I'd taken half a step when, with lightning quickness, his arm shot out to halt my progress, his hand wrapping around my bicep.

Jacob's snarl was ferocious as he advanced a step closer.

"Edward," I cautioned, trying to keep my voice level and free from the tension that was twisting like a snake poised to strike in my stomach. "Let go. It's fine. It's Jake. He won't hurt me." And it felt so surreal to be talking to Edward in this placating manner. Who was I kidding? It was bizarre to be talking to Edward at all, but the shock of his sudden arrival had yet to wear off, and I was acting on instinct. Jacob was safety and security.

Edward's eyes glanced over to me for the briefest of moments before returning to Jacob's hulking, growling form. "I'm not letting you anywhere near _that_…"

"Jacob," I repeated. "It's just Jacob." Edward didn't release his hold on my arm. Instead, he pulled me closer to his side and began moving us steadily backwards. Jacob followed our slow retreat. "Edward, please," I begged.

And then he went completely stiff against me. Two rapid heartbeats later, howls began filling the night, and several more wolves entered the clearing. From my limited position I could count three others, but if the growls at our back were any indication, the majority of the pack was present. And they we're closing in.

The stakes were raised and I felt my panic escalate accordingly. Edward wasn't as affected.

"You've crossed the treaty line." His musical voice sounded clearly in the night air, possessing an air of authority I'd never heard him use before. "Go back to your land now, and I shall forgive the trespass."

Outraged howls rang almost painfully in my ears, and Edward's head snapped towards the large black wolf to our left. Sam. For several seconds, the two stared intently at one another, Edward's face still set in a relaxed mask despite the tension I felt in the arm protectively surrounding me.

When he spoke, his voice was still clear and sincere but softened by some unidentifiable emotion. "No. I will not harm her. You have my word."

It took my only a moment to orient myself and realize what he'd done. Edward was reading their thoughts.

"Yes, I can hear what you're thinking," Edward acknowledged, still poised and steady. The epitome of control. He eyed Jacob again. "All of them."

Someone must have thought something that made Edward frown, and his arm moved to encircle my waist. Jacob was the pack member closest to us, and he paced restlessly back and forth in a short circuit, never taking his eyes off Edward. Even in his wolf form, I could tell he was seething.

"Agreed. I'll return Bella safely home and meet you at the treaty line, where we can discuss any developments."

Jacob bristled.

"Edward, let me go." My voice wasn't nearly as powerful and commanding as his, but I was fairly certain it conveyed my sentiment. I wriggled in his unrelenting grasp, and when he didn't give way, there was a stirring amongst the pack.

For the first time since Jacob's arrival, Edward seemed to truly acknowledge my presence. He stared down at me with an intensity that, at one point in my life, would have left me pleasantly breathless but now just caused me to shrink away—he was so close, too close. My flinch was not lost on Edward, and his stone-faced ferocity slowly melted into something more vulnerable and uncertain.

Once again, I tried to move, and this time his resistance was token. Finger by finger, he released his hold on my hip, as I took sluggish but purposeful steps away from him. I hadn't even gone five feet when Jacob's russet form shouldered into the space between us, forcing me backwards toward the tree line.

With Edward out of my line of sight, thoughts started forming with more clarity, and the enormity of what was happening hit me square in the chest, knocking the air from my lungs with startling force. I collapsed again the nearest tree, clinging to the trunk with shaking hands as my mind worked in overdrive: processing, analyzing, but still not truly comprehending.

The world started tilting precariously.

As some point Jacob appeared before me—as a boy, not a wolf. But with his eyes dark, shoulders stiff, and lips drawn down in a frown, he was still very much business, and for that I was grateful. Emotionally I couldn't tell which way was up. Any consolation he could have offered would've been lost in my internal tumult.

The iciness of his skin took me by surprise as he smoothly swept me up into his arms, and I shivered.

Jacob didn't even glance down at me; he just continued looking straight ahead as he started off into the woods, his jaw clenched and eyes tight. "Tell me if it starts to hurt."

He meant my stitches I was sure, but there was a much more prominent ache that was causing my heart to speed and my vision to blur. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry.

Almost as soon as he'd started running, his pace slowed to a walk, and a small, red house appeared in the distance. Apparently I wouldn't be going home.

Billy was sitting on the porch, watching our arrival with calm, expectant eyes as we ascended the stairs. But Jacob brushed right past him into the house without so much a glance in his father's direction. He wordlessly carried me to his room, deposited me on the mattress, and wordlessly stared down at me.

My throat felt parched, and I could hardly see through the moisture building in my eyes, but I was more aware of him in that moment than I'd ever been aware of another person in my life.

The seconds stretched merciless into miles between us. It felt like something—something essential to my existence, to my ability to function—was slipping through my fingers, and I was powerless to stop it.

His chest heaved noticeably with every breath as he peered at me with half-clenched eyes, and I _knew _that he was searching. Jacob saw things in me that no one else, including myself, had ever even bothered looking for, and in that moment I wanted nothing more than for him to find whatever it was that made me worth keeping, whatever it was that he'd seen all of those weeks ago when I warned him away in this exact spot.

He opened his mouth once, twice, before closing it in a grim line. Then he turned away.

My heart plummeted.

"Jacob!" I sobbed, lurching off the bed towards his retreating figure. I stumbled into his back, wrapped my arms around his waist and held on for all I was worth. "Please," I cried into his skin.

He twisted in my arms, purposefully placing his hands on either side of my face, directing it upwards toward his. "Bella…I can't…not now, not yet. I have to…go." His voice was breathless and pleading, and I realized that while I was shaking, Jacob was _convulsing_, his skin rippling and shivering with suppressed power. A particularly pronounced shudder undulated across his chest.

Jacob was losing control.

"I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to my temple and then slipped silently out the door.

I stayed where he left me, standing in the middle of his room, arms clutched around my sides and periodically shivering as stray emotions slipped into my conscious thought. Eventually my legs gave out, and I settled in a heap on the floor, my knees bent, supporting my head.

Edward.

I didn't allow myself to think anything beyond his name. I didn't think about the compassion in his golden eyes, or the familiar disarray of his bronze hair, or the heady scent of his breath, or the musical lilt of his voice. The way he'd said my name…

No. I wouldn't think of any of that.

"Stop it," I groaned into the soaked patches of denim covering my knees. The tears stubbornly kept falling.

The creak of the door had my breath catching, and my head whipped up expecting Jacob…only to find a scowling Leah leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

"What the hell are you blubbering about?"

I hastily wiped at the tear tracks with the back of my hand. "N-nothing."

Leah's dark, searing eyes rolled heavenward. "Someone get the girl a fucking Emmy."

"Go away, Leah," I grumbled. I didn't have the energy for this, didn't have the emotional capacity or the motivation. Edward's name continued to spin like a revolving door inside my head, leaving and coming and leaving and coming and never stopping.

"No." She walked farther into the room, flopping loudly down on the bed just off to my right. I didn't move to face her, but I felt her eyes piercing my skull. "So your vampire's back."

I huffed, blubbered, "He's…he's not mine."

There were several minutes of silence, and when Leah spoke, her voice was strangely empathetic. "I know. But that doesn't mean you don't want him to be."

I screwed my eyes shut, pressed my hands over my ears, and tried to force away the traitorous thoughts her words sparked to life. "I love _Jacob_."

"Yeah."

"He makes me happy. Edward makes me…" Miserable. That's the only way I could describe what I was feeling at that moment. The twisting, and the burning, and the hollowness was miserable. I hated it. "Why is he even here?"

Leah's response was flat. "Does it even matter?"

Yes. "No. I just…don't understand. Why would he come back when he promised—"

"Because he's a lying prick. It's a quality naturally embedded in the genes of all men. Some are just better at suppressing it than others."

"Jacob's not."

She shrugged. "Not yet."

I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes. Why were we even arguing about this? Edward was out there somewhere, and so was Jacob. There were probably out there _together_.

I tensed at the thought. Jacob hadn't looked too good when he'd left. What if he tried to attack Edward? What if there was a fight? The clenching in my stomach started to make me feel nauseous.

I scrambled to my feet. "We have to go. Edward could hurt Jacob."

Leah reached out to grab my arm. "Hold up there, Buffy. I'm pretty sure that considering the numbers, it's the vampire you should be worried about."

Of course. The pack. Edward wouldn't stand a chance…

My panicked expression had her rolling her eyes. "Not that Sam would let it come to that unless the treaty was broken." She gave me a considering look. "But if you _want_ him taken out…"

I gaped angrily at her. "What? Of course I don't want Edward killed!" The thought of Edward's perfection reduced to burning pieces of flesh was excruciating. He didn't deserve that.

Leah looked unimpressed. "Well he _did_ nearly kill you."

"Would you want Sam to die?" I snapped back.

Her expression went flat, and there was no need to verbalize a response.

Feeling drained and guilty, I collapsed onto the bed next to her with a sigh. "Sorry."

"Whatever."

For the first time since she'd walked into the room I took a good look at Leah. She was taller, not by much, but a couple of inches. And somehow she just looked _stronger_; there was a new definition in the muscles of her arms. Her cheekbones and brow were sharper, giving her a few more years of age, and her profile was leaner. The most notable change was the short, boyish cut of her hair, just fringing out over her ears. She looked even fiercer than before—which I hadn't thought a possibility.

But there was something else that had changed. It wasn't physical, yet it showed in the deepness of her eyes, in the relaxed set of her jaw, and the effortlessness of her posture. Something seemed off. And I stared at her for several seconds before coming to a startling realization: Leah didn't look angry.

Of course, she didn't look exactly happy either, but she wasn't scowling.

"So you don't want him dead. Fine. But you still want him to fuck off."

"I…" Edward's reappearance was painful, damaging in ways I was certain I had yet to fully comprehend. But did I really want him to leave just as quickly as he'd come? Would it be better—easier—that way?

I considered how things had turned last time and had my answer immediately.

No. Because I couldn't wake up tomorrow and pretend that this had all been one of my nightmares. And I couldn't afford to go through months of numbness, not again. This time would be different. This time there would be more than one-sided goodbyes. There would be explanations. There would be closure.

I needed to talk to Edward.

"Because that's what I told him."

I glanced over at her in confusion. "Told who?"

"The vampire. I told him to drag his pathetic-ass carcass back to whatever shithole he's been sucking dry these last few months, so he can fuck himself without bothering the rest of us." Grudgingly she added, "Then Sam made my phase back."

I was unable to keep my hand from shooting out to grab her arm in shock. "You talked to Edward?" She'd talked to Edward and told him _that_?

She looked down in surprise at my hand grasping her forearm. "Er…he's a mind reader—not that you didn't know that already. Basically I just thought really, really loudly. I'm pretty good at that." A feral smirk curled her lips.

I thought back to the clearing but couldn't recall seeing a wolf I hadn't recognized. But things had happened so quickly. "You were there?"

Leah easily pulled her arm free from my white-knuckled clutch. "No, I was here in La Push. With Seth. Everyone else was tracking the red she-vamp, but according to Sam, the two of us were 'too green' to be on the hunt, so we got stuck playing guard dog."

"Wait. Victoria? She was here?"

Leah sighed. "Yes. God, could you try keeping up?"

"Sorry. It's just, Jake didn't mention her." He hadn't mentioned anything.

Leah pursed her lips but continued. "There was a fresh trail leading north, and after following it for a while, Sam sent Jacob back to protect you in case she decided to loop around. And that's when he saw your vampire. The rest of the pack left the red-head's trail to give him back up." She shrugged. The rest I could fill in for myself.

"What's the 'treaty line?'" Edward had said something about meeting them at the treaty line to "discuss developments."

She gave a long, frustrated groan. "Ugh. So now that the Cullens are back, we have to pull in our patrol routes. We can't leave La Push in our wolf forms, and in return your vampires can't come onto our land." She gave a disgusted sneer. "Oh, and we don't hunt their sorry asses down as long as they don't drink human blood."

Edward had known about the werewolves? Why wouldn't he have said anything? That seemed like a pretty vital piece of information considering…

"Wait. You said the _Cullens_ are back. So they're all…they're all here in Forks?" Not just Edward, but all of them. Alice. Emmett. Jasper. Esme. Clarlisle. Even Rosalie. But why? Why would they come back? He'd promised.

"Look," Leah said in exasperation, "you're the vampire expert here. I thought they traveled together because they were like a 'family.' Some modern day version of the Cleavers or some shit like that."

It made sense. Maybe Edward hadn't chosen to come back to Forks. Maybe he was forced to come back because of his family. But what would they be doing in Forks to begin with? Surely they couldn't have run out of _distractions_ that quickly.

"Jacob's probably gonna throw a tantrum." This thought seemed to amuse Leah, but I just felt the knot in my stomach wind tighter.

"You don't think he'll do something rash, do you?"

"I'm sure he'd like to."

I was pretty sure too.

* * *

**AN:** Some of you seem a little nervous about Edward coming back. Can't imagine why. ;)

So, I'm going to be talking about this so much that you're gonna think it's part of the story's plot, but here it goes: The Underdogs are Jacob and Bella fanfiction awards hosted at theair_thesun on LiveJournal. Today is the FINAL day to nominate stories for the first five categories. So go forth and support your favorite J/B moments at this address: http:/community[dot]livejournal[dot]com/theair_thesun/57383[dot]html


	16. The Morning After

**Zenith**

_Chapter Sixteen – The Morning After_

* * *

Not too long after she'd arrived, Leah left again, claiming to need to check in with Seth, though I got the distinct feeling she just needed an escape from the excessive levels of estrogen permeating the room.

At Billy's gentle prodding, I called Charlie and told him that I wasn't feeling well and planned to just crash at the Black's. "No, it's not the stitches. Just some nausea. I don't want to risk getting sick in the car. M'kay. Sure. Love you too. Goodnight."

As my hand released the receiver, I felt the adrenaline dwindle from my system and exhaustion creep in to take its place. My limbs were suddenly inexplicably heavy, and I trudged back to Jacob's room with all the enthusiasm of someone being marched to the gallows.

After the evening I'd just had, there was no questioning just what terrors would await me when I closed my eyes. Sleep would offer no reprieve. But I sank onto the bed anyway, my burdened mind all too eager to give into the inevitable and succumb to anything that wasn't this waking nightmare. I closed my eyes only to open them against streaming sunlight.

I'd been expecting the scaffold.

I'd been expecting the self-righteous mob, the accusing man, the rising smoke, the falling tears, Felicity burning. But what I saw were beautiful flowers. Blues and purples and pinks and yellows that bloomed from anywhere there was soil. The stone path beneath my feet snuck in and out amongst the plots, twisting for several yards until it met the back of an old wooden house. It was small and box-shaped, crude and hand-built, something from years and years ago that echoed pioneering and hard labor.

And there she was.

Felicity was stepping through the doorway, a small smile lighting her face and an apron slung carelessly around her hips. "You are not supposed to be here."

I glanced to the left and to the right and over my shoulder only to find no one in the garden but myself. She was talking to _me_?

"You are early," she continued, not unkindly as she stepped onto the path. "The time is drawing near though, is it not?"

She looked right at home amongst the flowers, her wheat colored hair swaying with the breeze just as the green stems danced adoringly around her. She meandered her way along the path, coming to a rest just a few paces before me. Her smile was warm and intuitive. "Hello, Isabella."

It was impossible not to smile back. "Felicity."

And suddenly all of the questions that I knew I should have asked—Who are you? Why do I keep dreaming of you? What does this all mean?—seemed inconsequential. Those things, after all, would be resolved with time.

"Is this your garden?"

That comforting smile again. "Goodnight, Isabella."

And I didn't even have time to wonder over her words before the flowers and sunlight slipped away, replaced by blanketing darkness and a lumpy pillow beneath my cheek.

There was a tugging down by hips, and I groggily forced my eyes open.

"Jake?"

"Hey," he whispered, pausing to tip his face up. "Didn't mean to wake you."

His broad form was hunched over the bed—over me—and he was rather unsuccessfully attempting to work my unbuttoned jeans down past my thighs.

"Whatch'ya doin'?" I mumbled, still fighting off the pull of sleep. I didn't feel rested at all.

He kept his deep voice low. "I was trying get these off without waking you up, but…"

I shifted my legs and winced. They _were_ really stiff and uncomfortable. "Just rip 'em off."

A smile ghosted over his lips. "You mind if I bank that for another day?" But he did start using more force to pull the material to my ankles where I helpfully kicked the jeans onto the floor. My bare calves rubbed together, enjoying the freedom.

Burning hands grabbed my hips and gently slid me down the mattress. "Arms up, honey," he prodded quietly.

I complied, raising my arms above my head and letting my heavy eyelids droop close with a sigh. My sweater put up less of a fight than my pants, and within moments I heard it softly hitting the floor as well. The air coming in from the open window caused me to shiver, but the cold was quickly chased away by the fingers blazing along my abdomen.

And then there was the sound of Velcro being undone.

My eyes snapped open. Twisting onto my side, I raised my knees to curl in on myself. "Don't."

"Bells…"

"No."

He sighed. "It's gonna get infected."

"Don't care," I mumbled, closing my eyes and willing sleep to claim me. No. There was absolutely no way I was letting him see _that_, not when _I _hadn't even looked at it yet. Aside from catching glimpses of angry pink flesh and Frankenstein-esque stitching in my periphery every time I bathed, I still couldn't bring myself to do more than glimpse at my mauled middle. The minutes it took for Emily to redress the wound, I spent studiously observing the nonsensical patterns in the ceiling plaster. Anything to distract my wandering eyes.

"Well, I do," he stated firmly, his obvious exhaustion starting to strain his voice. "Now stop being stubborn."

When I didn't move, Jacob rolled me onto my back himself. My hand shot out to grasp his wrist when he returned to the task of undoing my bandage. His eyes snapped to mine in challenge.

Whatever he saw in my face—the fear, the shame, the doubt—gave him pause, until slowly the stubborn lines in his face softened into something reassuring and completely Jacob. "Honey…"

"…_don't be afraid."_

"…_it doesn't change a thing."_

"…_let me do this."_

"…_I love all your parts, even the broken ones."_

"…_I'm going to fix you now."_

He said it with his eyes, with the reassuring stroke of his thumb across my hip, and with the way he'd taken care of me time and time again as I'd stumbled my way along the traitorous road to recovery. My trust was not something that he had earned; it was something that had been forced upon him the moment I showed up at his front door with a pair of broken motorcycles asking for help. I'd thrust my unconditional, desperate faith on him, and never once had he buckled under the pressure. He never told me that I was wrong to trust him, that my expectations were too high or unwanted. He just smiled and did his best. Like now.

Jacob had my faith. I just needed to borrow a little bit back for myself.

With a deep breath, I released his hand.

He acknowledged my concession with a sweep of his fingers across my cheek, gently pushing back the tangled mess of hair that was lying there.

And then he got to work.

As he unwound the gauze and Ace bandage, the sickening scent of blood mingling with sweat brought on a bout of lightheadedness that would have sent me sprawling had I not already been lying down. I was glad it was dark; it was easier to avoid looking at the exposed stitches. Instead I focused intently on Jacob's face.

There was a crease in his handsome brow as he concentrated on the careful, minute movements of his large hands, gently wiping away the grime with a damp cloth before applying small dabs of ointment. And he was so tender—I hardly felt a thing. He would've given Emily a run for her money.

Carefully I watched for shifts in his expression, some sort of indication—a hint of revulsion, maybe—that perhaps he wasn't as unaffected by my disfigurement as he appeared. But the warmth in his eyes never wavered, and I felt silly for ever doubting him, doubting _us_.

It took multiple attempts for him to reapply a fresh dressing so that it was both comfortable and functional, and I couldn't help but smile sleepily as his lips pursed in frustration.

"Why thank you, Dr. Black," I teased once he pulled a large, worn T-shirt down over my head. A quick inhale of the collar confirmed that it was indeed his; the subtle, woodsy scent was unmistakable.

"Well, you were such a good little patient, even if you were a bit _grumpy_," he condescended as he went about cleaning away the trash and disposing of the used rag.

"Do I get a reward?" I asked hopefully.

He sat on the edge of the bed. "Hmm…" he pretended to think.

"A sucker? Sticker? Yo-yo?"

A familiar glint entered his eyes. "Something better."

I gasped. "Better than a yo-yo?"

He leaned down over me, an arm on braced on either side of my body, and whispered, "_Much_ better" with a small, dangerous smile.

"Now this I've got to see." I felt my own grin fade, felt my breath quicken.

And he kissed me softly, kissed my slowly, kissed my sweetly, kissed me until I was no longer breathing air, but breathing _him._

…_the air, the sun…_

There was something to be said for quiet kisses in the dark and the accompanying feeling that you could go on sharing them forever. So when Jacob pulled back until just his forehead was resting on top of mine, a displeased moan left my tingling lips.

His grin was smug. "Better than a yo-yo?"

"That depends." I raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Do you do tricks?"

His deep chuckles were muffled by my mouth pressing a smile against his. He affectionately grazed my cheeks with his thumbs. When he spoke, his voice was layered with innuendo. "Actually I do 'lay' pretty well."

I rolled my eyes, swatted at his chest, and tried to keep my laughter from waking Billy. "You are so corny. And _horny._ You and Quil are not to spend any more time together under any circumstances."

"Jeez, Bells. Never took you for the 'controlling girlfriend' type." He ducked his lips to my ear. "It's kind of hot."

I scoffed and—knowing that my face was pink and that he had something akin to night vision— turned away to relax once again onto my back. "Well, why don't you impress me and 'lay' down. I'm tired."

His burning lips brushed my forehead. "G'night, Bells."

Then he moved to stand up.

"Where are you going?"

"Couch."

"Why?"

His dark eyes met mine and drilled right past my soul to my very core, the scarred, damaged place where there used to be a gaping hole, but where there now stood a thin, painstakingly erected door—one I could open and close as I pleased. Jacob didn't see through me, he saw _inside_ of me.

And I knew that he saw the part of my heart that belonged to Edward. It hadn't gotten any smaller, any less insignificant since he'd left me on the forest floor. That kind of love wasn't forgotten or lost no matter how much it was abused, but even though it was still there, it sat like a lead weight in my chest. I wished _so_ badly Jacob didn't have to see it, but he'd been staring it in the face for weeks on end. And he hadn't left yet.

Jacob blinked, and the searching intensity was replaced with uncertainty and dread, and for once I felt that I was the one looking inside of _him_.

"I just thought…maybe you needed some space, maybe...shit, maybe you want—"

"Jacob."

Twisting so that I was lying on my side, I reached out to grab hold of his hand. He met my earnest gaze with trepidation.

A small, certain smile slowly curved my lips. "I love you."

The 'am in' was snuck in there silently, but I felt it, tasted it on my tongue, sweet and reassuring like a gulp of warm soda straight from the can. And I knew Jacob did too.

His hand tightened around mine—almost painfully—as he fell back to my side. The gush of air from his lungs was more than an expression of relief, it was the exorcism of a demon—one that'd been plaguing us both for weeks. And I was torn between crying and grinning but couldn't manage to do either.

"I love you so much." Because it bore repeating.

His lips kept twitching between a smile and a frown. Still so uncertain. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I continued to reel him in with our joined hands until we were pressed chest-to-chest on his double bed.

He finally settled on a small, heart-racing grin. His fingers danced intimate patterns along my throat, causing me to shiver. "Took you long enough. I was starting to think I was gonna have grey hair and a walker by the time you got around to admitting that."

He'd known. Of course, he'd known. "Hey, I've been telling you for over two weeks," I muttered indignantly, recalling all of my vain attempts. But nothing—_nothing_—could keep the smile from my face as butterflies continued to dance pleasantly in my stomach.

I _loved _him.

"Yeah,"—he nodded absently—"but now you mean it."

And that made perfect sense.

"Goodnight, Jacob."

"'Night, Bells."

* * *

The moment I swung open the door to Sam and Emily's house I was accosted by a set of slim arms that wrapped around my shoulders and warm, worn hands that soothed back my unwashed hair from my face. It took only a moment for me to return the embrace and get swept up in the scent of fresh cinnamon and flour. Wow. Emily even smelled like a mom.

"What can I do for you?" she murmured into my hair before gently pulling back. The unscarred half of her face radiated sympathy and support.

I glanced into the living room to see Jacob—who had been in a surprisingly upbeat mood during the walk over—exchanging quiet words with Embry. His eyes, which had been bright and shinning just minutes ago, were now solemn, and there was a crease of wrinkles along his brow.

I sighed. It seemed it was time to get down to business, then.

It may have been childish of me, but I really wanted to put off any talk—any thought—of last night for as long as possible. So I offered Emily a weak smile and said, "You can let me ice those cinnamon rolls you've got cooling in the kitchen."

She nodded in understanding and led the way with her arm wrapped around the crook of my elbow.

There were eight werewolves and three dozen homemade cinnamon rolls. And an industrial-sized vat of scrambled eggs. And multiple frying pans of sausage. And four gallons of orange juice.

Oh, and two human girls who stood clear of the kitchen table before giving an antsy, salivating Quil the go ahead to eat. The others weren't more than two steps behind him.

Breakfast, like any meal with the pack, was a loud affair, and as they decimated the mountain of food with impressive speed and surprising cleanliness, I leaned back against the cabinets beside Emily, who watched over the group with a content smile.

"Is Kim going to be coming by?" Without her there to keep up a constant stream of conversation, I felt like a mute.

Emily shook her head "No. Pack meetings don't typically include significant others." I didn't fail to notice her thoughtful substitution for 'imprint.' But hearing the word in my head was enough to cause me to shiver anyway.

"Should I go?" I asked reluctantly. All though I didn't want to impose, I really needed to hear about what transpired with Edward the previous night. Jacob had been tight-lipped on the matter all morning.

"Don't be silly." She patted my hand reassuringly. "This concerns you, after all."

As the guys—and Leah—finished up breakfast, they began migrating toward the living room, some falling onto the sofa, others taking up residence on the floor.

After cleaning off his plate and placing it in the sink, Jacob took my hand and guided me over to an over-stuffed arm chair, folding himself into it before pulling me onto his lap.

It didn't escape my notice that Jacob had chosen the seat farthest from where Leah was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. I wasn't sure whether or not he knew about our impromptu discussion the night before but decided not to risk asking him. That conversation was one better left for another time—in the very distant future.

Once the pack had finished trickling in, Sam started talking and everyone else immediately fell silent.

"Everyone knows what it means now that the Cullens are back; no one is to leave La Push while phased. No exceptions." I didn't imagine the hard look Sam sent over my shoulder at Jacob. "We stick to the treaty."

It didn't take long for the objections to mount.

"This is bullshit. That redheaded bloodsucker is ours."

Quil nodded. "I'm with Paul. I say we take out the one from last night while he's alone. Problem solved. No more Cullens in Forks."

I bit my tongue to keep from protesting. Luckily Sam spoke up instead. "We stick to the treaty. If we take out one now, it just means we'll have to deal with the rest of the coven later."

I didn't miss Quil's mumbled, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

The sound of Leah's bored voice speaking up had everyone turning toward her in surprise. "Don't get me wrong, the treaty's great and all, but it's not going to take long for the redhead to figure our routes are restricted. And once she does, Buffy over there will be killed in her sleep, the redhead will skip town, and we'll lose our chance at her."

"Wow, Leah, I appreciate the heart-felt concern," I muttered, only half-sarcastic.

"Don't be like that, Bella," Embry admonished. "That's the nicest thing Leah's said in months."

"Years," Seth clarified.

The tip of Leah's boot connected with the small of her brother's back, causing the room to break out in a round of snickers when Seth yelped in surprise.

"I do have to say that I'm partial to Bella being alive, too." Embry sent a wink my way. "You know, since I went through the trouble of saving her life the first time around."

Being mauled by a werewolf was hardly my first brush with death, but that didn't really need mentioning. I had other concerns.

"You guys make it sound like…"—it's just a name, it's just a name—"…Edward's going to be here for a while. Did he even say why he was back in the first place?" Surely he wasn't planning on sticking around? He'd been so eager to leave.

Simultaneously, every eye turned my way. But it wasn't me they were looking at.

Twisting around I gazed at Jacob, who was locked in a silent stare-off with Sam. "Jake?"

There were several moments of tense silence before he sighed and dropped his chastised gaze to the ground, muttering, "We haven't really had a chance to talk about it."

Sam frowned. "Well, why don't you take care of that?" It wasn't a suggestion.

And not five minutes after I'd sat down, Jacob was gently urging me to my feet before getting up himself. Taking my hand with a sigh, he led me out of the room and away from weighty stares and perked ears of the pack. Leah met my questing gaze silently as we slipped past her.

We left Sam and Emily's house and started off down the damp road, our hands still carefully twined together as I hurried along to keep pace with his long strides.

Grey clouds spotted the sky, allowing gaps of soft light through to illuminate the slow drizzle of rain that had started up just that morning. I had hardly noticed it then; I'd been so wrapped up in Edward and Jacob to pay it any attention. Rain in Forks was as commonplace as blades of grass and even more recurrent than people. But now, as we trudged along that familiar curve of road, the spitting wetness seemed heavy and meaningful, a pathetic fallacy come to life.

We bypassed the Black's front door. Instead Jacob led me around to the shed-turned-garage that at some point in the past couple of months had become my home away from home. Seeing it now brought me a small bit of comfort. Nothing bad had ever happened here.

And it brought comfort to Jacob as well.

The moment we crossed the threshold, his entire body relaxed. He dropped his rigid posture as he moved to lean against the passenger side door of the Rabbit, and, as if just then noticing his vice-like grip on my hand, he quickly untangled his fingers and brought my palm to his lips, soothing away the light ache with a kiss and an apologetic brush of his thumb. "Sorry," he muttered looking pained.

"It's fine."

_Please tell me it's fine._

Jacob stared out into the rain, my hand still held between his warm palms. Almost absently he ran his fingertips over the creases of my pale skin and the curves of my knuckles, not looking down but being attentive none-the-less.

He looked lost, uncertain. And it made me uneasy, because Jacob had always been _so_ certain. Especially when it came to me. "Jacob—"

"This morning was nice." I barely caught his quiet words over the 'tinging' of the rain against the tin roof. "It was nice. Waking up next to you."

Despite my anxiety, I smiled. "Yeah, it was."

He nodded slowly. "I love you."

"I love you," I whispered because the moment felt so delicate.

"Bella…" His gaze crept from the falling rain, to the wet grass, to the garage floor to our joined hands, and eventually to my pleading eyes. He inhaled. "Bella, Edward came back because he loves you. What he said to you in the woods….was a lie." He blinked and looked away. "He's always loved you."

* * *

**AN:** Oh, dear. Things look like they're going to get a little messy. :/

I wasn't kidding about spamming you guys with The Underdogs updates. Voting is now open for the first round of categories! Go to this address to vote for your favorite J/B stories: http:/community**[dot]**livejournal**[dot]**com/theair_thesun/67707**[dot]**html

You know you want to. :P


	17. Act II

**Zenith**

_Chapter Seventeen – Act II_

* * *

Thinking I'd misheard him, I frowned. "Sorry. What?"

He made a soft, strangled noise that caught in his throat. "I said he loves you."

Pulling my hand from Jacob's, I staggered a step backward. My next breath came in too sharply. I looked up at him accusingly. "Why would you say that?"

His eyes met mine again. They were squinted and sincere and didn't hold any maliciousness. And as his jaw tensed and strained against his smooth russet skin, I could tell he was struggling.

"Bells, we talked. Him and I. Sort of." Subconsciously he began running his fingers along the hem of his shirt, pulling at the frayed edges. "When I phased after…after I dropped you off last night, he realized I hadn't taken you back to Charlie's, and he kind of went ballistic."

A shiver shot down my spine. Had there been a fight? None of the guys had looked injured at breakfast.

And my mind kept coming back to one agonizing question: why? Why did Edward come back, and what did he have against the wolves? Was it bias due to the old treaty? It seemed so unlikely; the Cullens had always seemed…above that kind of hatred.

Jacob was watching my expression carefully, measuring my response. But I didn't want him to stop, so I fought to keep my turmoil from showing.

"He was going to go and get you, treaty or no treaty. Of course, that would've meant a fight right then and there, and most of the pack was _excited_ about it." He spat the word like it left an awful taste in his mouth. "But, Bella, even though we would've gotten him eventually 'cause of sheer numbers, he was going to take some of us with him." His frown turned grim. "I could tell from that…look on his face. Some of my brothers we're going to _die_."

It was the first time I'd ever heard Jacob express any amount of uncertainty in the pack's capabilities. The pride-often-turned-arrogance thrummed alongside adrenaline through their veins. Being something fantastical in an otherwise ordinary world had to be a heady experience, and the pack thrived on the courage that came with near-invincibility. And sometimes I worried that they forgot they were still flesh and bone, still human.

But as much as I'd questioned it in the past, I found myself longing for that confidence now .

"And what if he did get past us? He fucking reads minds. And he's fast—faster than the redhead. I couldn't risk it. So…we talked." He sounded half-disgusted, half-amazed. Then a bitter smile lifted his lips. "Leah provided insightful commentary."

The buzzing in my head had reached screeching volumes. Jacob and Edward had talked. But about what? It was so hard to imagine. "I don't understand," I admitted slowly.

"You," said Jacob after a moment's pause. "We talked about you. And it didn't start off exactly civil. He accused _me _of putting you in danger." His stilted chuckle held no humor. "Like I was the one who abandoned you in the woods when there was a vampire with a vendetta against you roaming around."

I watched through a sort of daze as the muscles along Jacob's exposed forearms tightened and bulged prominently. A quiet fury worked its way over his body, his fists clenching, his shoulders tensing. I knew that I should've done something to comfort him and soothe his anger, but I was paralyzed where I stood. Numbly I waited for the next shoe to drop.

Jacob cleared his throat. "I said things. And then he said some things."

"Things," I echoed warily.

He nodded heavily. "Things."

"Jake…"

"It's just—" Suddenly he pushed away from the car and paced several steps away.

I stared at his hunched shoulders as he looked out into the gray gloom of morning. When had my world become so bleak? Where was the heat that had started to seep into my veins and warm the ache of my heart? Jacob was the light, but even at its zenith my sun couldn't dispel all of the shadow.

"It's just…you were so broken, Bells." He turned halfway around to settle his big brown eyes on mine. "You came here with those damn near-ruined motorcycles asking me to fix them, and even though they were a wreck, they didn't look quite so bad sitting next to you." Scuffing the heel of his sneaker against the ground, he explained, "I mean, considering you were a hundred times worse off."

Yes, I could recall that day clearly. It had been raining—harder than it was at the moment—and Jacob had led me into his garage—his sanctuary—for the first time. He'd been a boy at the time, innocent and naïve and beautiful. Even then I had known that we were meant for one another, that we would be a part of each other's lives from that day forward. As friends, and family, and confidants, and…

"And then when you finally told me why, I didn't understand. How could someone _not_ love you?" The genuine bewilderment in his voice caused my heart to swell in my chest. "How could anyone possibly let you go once they had you?" He shook his head as if to clear away the puzzlement. "I didn't understand then." Slowly he stepped towards me. "But I do now."

My hands were shaking, and I quickly shoved them in my pockets and forced myself to focus on breathing evenly.

Heat caused my skin to prickle and the hairs on my arms to stand on end as Jacob closed the space between us. His form dwarfed mine. My eyes strained to meet his, to not relinquish the slow-burning intensity of his gaze.

"Because when you love someone—love someone so much that things that used to matter, like your own happiness, and self-preservation, and right and wrong, start coming second to that person—you do things that you shouldn't. All you want is the best for her. She's everything even if she doesn't realize it…and that's wrong. It's wrong, but because you love her like hell and heaven and everything in-between, it makes all the suffering worth it. People aren't meant to be loved like that, but sometimes you just can't help it. And sometimes you just don't care."

His face disappeared behind a blur of tears I couldn't blink away. A sob clawed its way up my throat as his fingers deftly wiped the wetness from my cheeks.

"All you want is for her to smile and be happy," he continued quietly. "And even though it's selfish, you want her to be safe."

Who were we even talking about anymore? Him? Edward? A part of me—a big part of me—didn't want to know. Because I didn't deserve to be loved like that by anyone, let alone someone as wonderful as Jacob or Edward. "Please stop."

His answering sigh was rueful. "Loving you? I can't," he murmured mournfully. "And I don't even want to try." He swallowed and his eyes tightened as he said, "Even if it means I have to let you go."

My head was whipping back and forth so fiercely that Jacob had to relinquish his hold on my face. "But I don't want you to let me go." I didn't ever want to be let go again.

It was with great relief that I watch his familiar, frank smile reappear. Seeing it always made the world a little more bearable. It grounded me.

"And you have no idea how _ecstatic_ that makes me." Then he looked solemn again. "But do you understand what I'm saying? About Edward?"

I blinked. "You're wrong."

"Last night he told me—"

"Then he lied!" I snapped, angry that he was pressing the issue when all I wanted to do was forget. "He doesn't love me. He _never_ loved me. I…he _told_ me he didn't want me."

Jacob watched me with sad eyes. "Then he lied."

My teethed grinded together as my desperation gave way to frustration. "I thought you didn't trust vampires. You're supposed to hate them."

"And I thought you told me they weren't any different from you and me."

I opened my mouth and promptly shut it. Why was he doing this? What motivation could he possibly have to make me think that what Edward harbored for me was anything more than reluctant obligation?

"Bella, when he left, Edward destroyed something in you. _Everyone_ can see that." He looked at me pleadingly while running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You loved this guy like—literally—crazy. And you two were fucking Romeo and Juliet!" He threw his hands in the air, looking harassed and almost desperate. "And all that shit about banishment being worse than death kind of applied. And even though everyone watching knew it was wrong and that it was gonna end in mind-numbing disaster and carnage like all of those god-awful Shakespeare tragedies do, it didn't make what you felt for him any less significant. Because you just can't say that one person shouldn't love another. You can't say that you were wrong for loving Edward or that it was wrong for him to love you. Or that you can't love me. It's not like some people deserve love and others don't. So what if in the end everyone's dead or maimed? When people hear the name Juliet they don't think, 'yeah, she was that chick who offed herself.' No they think, 'yeah, she was the chick who loved a guy so much that death couldn't keep them apart.' If stories were just endings, no one would read them."

"Jake," I groaned, my head spinning. "What are you saying?"

He took a death breathe and slowly released it. "I'm saying it's okay that you love Edward."

It cost him something to say that. The painful look on his face was only barely concealed by a neutral mask.

"And that you need to realize that it's okay for him to love you. Otherwise, we're stuck in Act II. "

* * *

The drive home was made in silence. Jacob kept his eyes on the road, but his thoughts were elsewhere. I watched him as he occasionally nodded to himself or flexed his hold on the steering wheel. I watched him and thought about what he had said.

At the time, it had been gibberish. Jacob accurately referencing Shakespeare had been bewildering in and of its own. But for him to cast Edward as Romeo—not a completely unfounded comparison—and then call _me_ Juliet…it was completely ridiculous.

For one thing, Romeo returned Juliet's feelings. Ardently. What made their love so remarkable was the extent to which it was reciprocated. That both were willing to pursue it to the brink of death. Consequences be damned.

And that was the other thing. Both Romeo and Juliet were incredibly selfish. They were so absorbed in each other that they didn't even realize the consequences their choices had. People were killed and families were ruined and yet _they_ were the ones considered the victims in the end. Even though it was their own choice to die.

I frowned at my thoughts. I had never looked at the story like that before. I'd always thought that if something was done for the sake of something as true and pure as love, then it couldn't be wrong. Wasn't love the single-most important thing to have? Was it wrong to fight for it at all costs?

Suddenly I didn't know the answer.

"Bells?"

I looked up, startled to find Jacob standing beside the truck with the passenger door held open. "Oh," I uttered dumbly before allowing him to help me down. My stitches didn't even twinge.

He didn't release me right away. Instead, he looped his arms loosely around my hips and lent me back against the truck. Eagerly I sunk into the warmth of his chest, allowing his embrace to become my world. For a few wonderfully simple moments all I knew was softness of his worn t-shirt against my cheek and the quiet thumping of his heart beside my ear.

I wished I could stop time. Because things were simple here. Jacob loved me, and I loved him, and it was enough. It was beautiful.

But of course, time didn't stop. It continued to chug ruthlessly along, and after what felt like mere seconds, Jacob was pulling away until only our hands were touching.

His eyes flickered to my abdomen. "How are you feeling?"

I shrugged. "Not so bad." Honestly, I was starting to feel the effects of not taking my meds the night before. But it wasn't unbearable.

Jacob grinned in amusement. "Liar." Then he squeezed my hand and tugged on a greasy strand of my hair. "You going to the doctor tomorrow?" At my knowing look, he bit back another smile and clarified, "The _real_ doctor."

"Yeah," I sighed. I'd almost forgotten about my appointment the next morning. There was a very small possibility I could get my stitches taken out if things were healing well—I tried not to think of it too much beyond those generic terms. But there was no reason to be overly optimistic, so I wasn't.

"I wish I could be there with you." Jacob looked forlornly at the ground. "But I have to go to _school_." I almost laughed at how he practically sneered the last word.

"Jacob Black, are you pouting?" Before he could respond, I stretched onto my toes to kiss his jaw. "You're cute when you pout."

A faint hue of red darkened his skin as I rocked back on my heels, smirking up at him in amusement.

He regrouped quickly, leaned seductively into my personal space. "Well, you're cute _all_ the time."

"No, Jake, _you're_ the cute one," a squeaky voice interjected. "With your cute brown eyes, and cute, little nose, and your cute bulging muscles, and that cute, little tail…"

Jacob whirled to face the boy slumped smirking against the truck bed. "Embry, do you want me to put a cute, little hole through your chest?"

Batting his eyes, Embry simpered, "Only if you use your cute, wittle fist."

The two were on the ground before I could blink. As they tussled in the grass, Charlie stepped out the front door and sidled over to my side with a sigh. "Bells, you feeling any better?"

I gapped at Jacob and Embry—who had appeared out of nowhere—for several moments before turning to Charlie.

Right. My alibi from the previous night. "Yeah. I woke up and felt…fine. Must have, um, been something I ate. Or something." Wow, I thought listening to myself verbally stumble off a cliff, I really was an awful liar.

"Well,"—Charlie nodded, slowly pulled at his mustache—"good."

Good.

"Hey, Chief Swan-umf!" Embry waved with the one hand that wasn't twisted and pinned behind his back, but began grasping for air when Jacob's arm wrapped around his neck in a head-lock.

"Call," Charlie acknowledge the boy with a nod. Turning back to Bella, he asked, "You reckin' I should pull 'em apart?"

"Uh…"

Embry twisted out of Jacob's grasp and sent a knee slamming into his abdomen, but Jacob quickly retaliated by grabbing a hold of Embry's raised foot, and the two went stumbling to the ground in a pile of massive limbs.

"I think," Bella cleared her throat, "that interference from a distance would be safer."

"Right." He cleared his throat. "Jacob Black, if you don't stop making a spectacle of yourself on my front lawn this instant, you will not be permitted to see this lawn, this house or the teenage girl residing within it again before you're thirty."

With impressive speed and grace, Jacob escaped Embry's snatching hands, vaulted over his floundering body, and sprinted to a stop by my side, breathing heavily and smiling widely. "Hey, Charlie."

Charlie gave a very Charlie-like nod. "So, how did things go last night for you two?"

Immediately warning bells went off inside my head. Charlie was trying to sound casual, but I could easily detect the probing gleam in my father's eye. He was in cop mode.

But If Jacob picked up on the interrogational tone, he didn't show it. He just bobbed his head and said, "Great. But we had to turn in early because Bells wasn't feeling too good. Food poisoning. Or something."

Somehow I resisted the urge to role my eyes at the blatant jab at my hoodwinking capabilities. Stupid werewolf hearing.

Charlie didn't look impressed. "Uh huh. And how did you sleep?"

At this, Jacob pulled a face. "Eh, pretty awful. The couch is like ancient, and we don't call it 'The Bone Crusher' for nothing. It tried to swallow me twice."

For several seconds Charlie really laid on the Chief Swan Death Stare. It was a look that had induced confessions from numerous teenage troublemakers over the years—including Jimmy Riser, who had an unfortunate accident in his pants before admitting to vandalizing half of the town's stop signs; it later came to light that he was in fact innocent, and on the night the vandalizing took place had actually been looking up internet porn on his father's company computer.

Charlie wasn't even looking at me, and _I_ felt guilty.

Jacob just smiled genially.

Eventually Charlie turned away to walk into the house, muttering under his breath the entire way.

Once he was inside, Jacob shot me an amused look. "Right. Like I was going to fall for _that _one." He dropped his voice in a mockery of my father's. "'How did you sleep, Jacob?' Oh, just great, Chief. I got to spoon your half-naked daughter in my bed the entire night. But it was totally innocent. Any fondling that occurred was completely accidental. Promise. 'Well in that case, let me go get my handgun from inside so that I can blow both of your heads off. You just wait right here.' I'm stupid not suicidal."

Embry reappeared beside us and not for the first time since his arrival, I found myself wondering just what he was doing here. And then I saw the car parked at the end of the driveway. Embry was wearing a shirt and sneakers.

My spirits dropped as I turned to Jacob. "Are you leaving?"

"What? No. Not when there are now _two_ crazy vampires out to get you—motivations aside."

"Then what's…"

"Oh, me?" Embry piped up. "I'm just here to enjoy the great outdoors. You know, take in the local scenery. Have I ever told you that you guys have some really great trees? Like, possibly the best trees I have ever seen, and trust me, I've seen _a lot_ of trees in my seventeen years. My absolute favorite ones are just around the back of the house. Brown and super tall, just the way I like 'em. Totally beats the shit out of the trees in La Push. Wow, that has to be the leafiest Douglas Maple I have ever seen! Hey, Bella, you don't mind if I go take a closer look, do you? Just for a few hours? Thanks, you're the best."

Watching Embry round the far corner of the house, I asked, "Jake?"

"Uh-huh?"

"You wouldn't happen to know the reason behind Embry's sudden passion for botany, would you?"

"Well, when you start striking out with the ladies as hard as he has, you begin taking comfort in the things that can't reject you and spit in your face. Like trees. Honestly, he could do worse."

I nodded. "Yeah, he could be hulled up in a garage talking to cars." The minute the words slipped from my lips, my jaw dropped in shock, and I couldn't clamp my hand over my mouth fast enough. Had I said that?

Out loud?

Embry's cackling laughter echoed from the woods. I blushed in mortification.

But Jacob didn't look angry. Amused and slightly resentful but not angry. "Yep, you've been spending waaaaay too much time with Embry. Soon you'll be singing Pat Benatar in the shower and constantly getting your ass kicked at Halo."

"What's wrong with Pat Benatar?"

He groaned and pulled me into the house.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, it turned out Embry's enthusiasm for my back yard had little to do with voluminous trees and more to do with a certain treaty. Jacob explained that while the pack wasn't allowed to be in Forks when they were phased, there wasn't any rule against them being here in their human forms. So Embry had volunteered to patrol on two legs.

"You mean, he's just out there walking around in the rain?" The thought was enough to make me cringe under the force of a strong wave of guilt. Would I ever stop being such a burden to the people I cared about? Honestly, if I was going to be under constant attack by fate, the least the cosmos could've done was provide me with some super powers of my own. If I could shoot lightening from my fingertips or fireballs from my eyes, there really wouldn't be a need for all this.

Of course, Jacob shrugged, unconcerned. "Yeah. It's really not that different from patrolling as a wolf. We're just slower and have more privacy. A little rain isn't going to hurt us."

It wasn't the rain I was most concerned about. "But Victoria. She's still out there. What happens if she comes here?" Embry would be completely defenseless. It would be child's play for the vampire dead-set on killing me to take out a pack member in their human form. Embry would die.

No, this was ridiculous. Jacob and Embry needed to go home. Now.

Standing from my bed, I grabbed Jacob's warm hand and made a futile effort to pull him to the door. "You have to get Embry, and the two of you need to go back to La Push." Jacob didn't budge. He just stared up at me with calm eyes.

He was always doing this, always undervaluing his worth.

"Please," I begged.

"I'm not leaving you here unprotected." As if it were simple, obvious, not something that could be argued against.

His carelessness ignited my usually quiescent temper. "And how exactly, Jacob, would you be protecting me by getting torn up into little bit and pieces right in front of my eyes?" I seethed. "If you want to protect me, then protect _you_. You—you're everything. So, please, leave."

"Honey,"—he easily tugged me forward until our knees knocked together gently—"listen. No one's going to get torn into bits and pieces aside from Victoria. _If_ she shows up, Embry will phase and raise the alarm. The others can be here within two minutes."

"But, the treaty—"

"No one in the pack puts that old, moldy piece of paper before your life, Bella. Not even Sam. He just has to tell us to follow it because it's his job to be responsible and do what he can to keep the Cullens off our land. If he really didn't want any on us to phase in order to save your life, he would have made an injunction against it. But he didn't. Besides," he said, his eyes flat, "it's not like the lee—Edward would care if we phased if it meant saving your life. Sam knows that, too."

I sighed. It all seemed so complicated. And pointless. The Cullens were _vegetarian_. "You know, if Edw—the Cullens don't care about you phasing, and you don't have to worry about them going around biting humans, then really there doesn't even need to be a treaty…" My words trailed off into nothingness under the weight of the probing look Jacob was skewering me with. "What?"

"Where did you hear about that part of the treaty? The part about them not being allowed to bite humans?"

Oh. Crap.

"Um, I think Sam mentioned it this morning."

Jacob was shaking his head. "No, I don't think he did."

Shoot. This wasn't going to be pretty. Sucking in a deep breath, I exhaled, "Well, Leah might have said something about it the other night."

I was braced for an explosion. So when he stared past me darkly with his jaw clenched, the hand grasping mine trembling with tension, I found myself much more concerned with this internal combustion.

"Leah," he growled so lowly it sounded like a snarl.

Though it wasn't phrased as a question, I nodded. "It was fine," I soothed, running my free hand over his taught forearm. "We talked. She was…it was nice. Almost." Just recalling my state of mind at that time was decidedly _not_ nice.

"She was inside with you? Alone?" He looked physically pained. "_After_ Sam told her to phase back because she was too pissed off! What was she thinking? She shouldn't have been anywhere near another person!"

I could tell he was torn between getting up to go hunt Leah down and staying here insure my safety—Embry _was_ just outside "pruning the hedges" after all should any danger arise. But Leah had kind of grown on me…

I made the decision for him. Despite my earlier pestering for him to leave, I really was an essentially selfish person, so I kneeled across his lap as if my insubstantial weight could keep him anchored to my presence.

"Jake, it was fine." I placed a kiss just beneath his ear. "Promise."

His heavy hands—now resting on my hips—shot twin bursts of heat straight through my worn denim and into my skin until the warmth rolled right up my back in a pleasant wave that caused my spine to tingle.

"No. It wasn't…fine. She…safe…and you…you…" I could tell that my close proximity was affecting him, and I pressed my advantage, running my lips along the nape of his neck. "Gah-mmn," was his nonsensical response as my tongue peeked out to take a taste of his skin.

"If I ever feel unsafe around her, then I'll leave," I murmured reassuringly into his jaw. My hands set to work tracing his shoulder blades through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, and little-by-little the tension drained from his body, leaving him pliant and receptive in my arms.

He snorted but lovingly nuzzled my temple. "Unfortunately I think the wire that connects the fear synapses in your brain to the muscles in your legs is dysfunctional. Your 'flight' instinct is sorely lacking."

"Or"—my mouth pressed chastely to his—"said wire happens to know that my chances of survival are dramatically decreased when I run. Gravity has it out for me.

"In that case," he said with a glance and my partially ajar door, "maybe you should lie down." He fell back against the mattress, pulling me with him. "For your own safety of course."

I laughed and didn't bother trying to resist.

* * *

**AN:** My apologies for not being able to get this out to you sooner. I've been very busy with Twilight fandom stuff as of late (such as writing future chapters of Zenith). But I can promise that the next chapter will be posted in less than a week. So, yay for that. :)

Thank you to everyone who continues to leave me feedback even though it took forever for me to respond this last chapter. What you have to say really does mean a lot to me.

The Underdogs : Winners from the first round were posted Monday, and I'm proud to say that my story "Thunder Cake" won second place for Best Use of Quembry (woot!). So thank you to all of you who manged to get over there and participate. Nominations for the next group of categories are already open if that's something you're interested in doing.


	18. Scarring

**Zenith**

_Chapter Eighteen – Scarring_

* * *

"So you and Jacob seem to be doing well."

I blinked and whipped my head around to look at Charlie, whose gaze was steadfastly fixed on the slick road through the windshield.

"Um, yeah."

He nodded. Then, with a glance in my direction, said, "Well, you're both good kids, so I know I don't have to worry about the two of you getting into any sort of trouble."

It took a moment for it to click, for my mind to comprehend just what he was trying to say. And when it did, I wanted to sink into my seat until it swallowed me whole. He didn't really want to talk about…

"I was a teenager once, too."

Oh. God.

"And, well, your mom and I were practically still kids when we found out about you."

Face flushed red; I turned to focus out the passenger window at the passing wet scenery. I couldn't risk looking at Charlie. Just imagining his embarrassed, flustered expression was enough to make me cringe.

"You're a smart girl, Bella. You know that no matter how protected you think you are—"

"Dad," I gasped. "Please. We really don't need to discuss…this." Shrinking even farther into the leather seat of the cruiser, I silently pleaded for the hospital to appear. I should have known he'd want to talk my and Jacob's…_intimacy_…after the stare down he'd given Jacob yesterday. I should have, but I'd been so distracted by, well, everything. Edward's arrival in Forks, the treaty, Jacob's misconceptions about Edward's feelings, my own feelings, my stitches, Victoria, my dreams, Felicity, Leah…all of it just kept piling and piling, and _nothing_ was getting resolved. I felt like a suspended piece of ply board ready to snap under the weight of ten too many bricks.

I could feel it; something building inside of me. Something dark and deep that was writhing beneath the pressure of the supernatural complications of my life, and I could feel it growing restless, twisting for space, looking for escape, just waiting for when it became too much and the only way was out…

And Charlie wanted to talk about sex.

Forcing myself to look up at him and striving to sound as reasonable and mature as possible, I said, "Dad, I understand."

And that was apparently good enough for him, because we spent the last two minutes of our drive in familiar—if not slightly uncomfortable—silence.

When we arrived at the hospital, I was immediately directed to a private room, and Charlie followed after hesitantly, reluctant to leave me but uncomfortable knowing that during the examination I would be required to take my shirt off. His parental instincts won out over his prudery for the moment.

For about all of five minutes I sat atop an observation table, mindlessly swinging my heels back against the wood and doing my best not to think about what was about to happen. And then the door quietly swung open.

I choked on my next breath.

"Good morning, Bella."

Several attempts at speech failed before I managed a flustered, "C-Carlisle…er, Dr. Cullen."

Over in his chair against the wall, Charlie seemed just as flabbergasted. "Carlisle! What's…you…"

"Hello, Charlie." The handsome, blonde vampire smiled good-naturedly. "It's good to see you both again."

Charlie's shock, however, quickly wore off, and his face flushed with anger. "You! Your son!"

"You know what, Dad?" I quickly spoke up as he jumped to his feet. "Why don't you wait outside? The fewer people who see this, the better."

"I don't think so—"

"Dad, please." He turned his burning gaze from Carlisle to me where it quickly melted and lost its vehemence. His professionalism made a valiant return.

"Sure, Bells," he said gruffly. "I'll be out there waiting."

The moment the door closed behind him, I trained my eyes on Carlisle who had watched my father's departure with an expression of regret.

"What are you doing here?" I flinched at my own accusatory tone and reminded myself that this was Carlisle. He'd never been anything but exceedingly kind and accepting of me.

"Dr. Tines had some car trouble this morning. I was here getting things together for my transfer and decided to lend a hand by picking up his scheduled appointments," he explained patiently, completely unaffected by my rudeness.

"Transfer?"

"Yes," he said after a slight pause, "I'm transferring back to Forks. Esme and I have missed the town and the people in it incredibly." He gave me a soft, but meaningful look, and I had to quickly glance away.

"So, you're back. Does that mean…"

At that moment Carlisle started moving about the small room, opening drawers and pulling out a handful of supplies. But he still looked at me when he spoke. "Yes, the entire family has returned."

The news wasn't shocking, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. "Why?"

"I'm going to lift your shirt and then have you lie down on your back, Bella."

Wordlessly I obeyed, going through the motions almost reflexively. Carlisle's touch was just as gentle and soothing as Emily's, as he cut through the bandages covering my stomach and removed the gauze.

"This looks like quite the scrape you got in," he murmured while carefully prodding at my flesh. I kept my attention focused on his face, but his calm, appraising eyes betrayed nothing. "Your file says that you were attacked by a bear?"

"Yes. That's what happened," I said too quickly, and Carlisle must have easily been able to pick up on the defensiveness. But he merely dipped his head in acceptance and continued on with his examination.

"You seemed to have healed up quite nicely."

I couldn't conceal my surprise. "Really?"

"Yes." A wrinkle troubled his smooth brow. "Actually, it's quite…remarkable."

There was something in his voice, an uncertainty I would have never associated with the wise, composed man who seemed to never falter. "What do you mean?"

His expression was immediately comforting and confident as he patted my arm. "You're just very lucky. I'm happy to say that your wounds have healed exceptionally well. In fact I'm going to go ahead and remove the stitches."

Lucky. Me? I was never lucky. As a matter of fact, my luck was incredibly horrendous. I could recall quite clearly the sting of ripped stitches, the faint stench of blood in the air, the fathomless depth of black eyes. That had been two nights ago. It couldn't possibly have healed.

"Bella, now I know that when you were first checked in after the incident you refused skin grafts. But you should know that even though you've mended expeditiously, there will still be extensive scarring—"

"No," I said absently, still lost in thought. "No skin grafts."

There was a short silence.

"Alright." And then he got to work.

The sensation of having stitches removed wasn't very pleasant. And to keep my mind off of the queer tugging sensation along my abdomen and the unanswerable questions pounding against my skull, I turned my attention back to Carlisle. "You didn't answer my question."

He didn't ignore me, but I could see him silently pondering how to respond as he kept his eyes focused on the movements of his hands. "Victoria," he said eventually. "Edward called and informed us that she has returned to Forks, and that she's rather intent on…"

"Killing me. Preferably very slowly."

He smiled wryly. "Yes."

I waited for him to say more, to give some sort of an explanation. And when he didn't speak after several moments, I prompted, "So, you heard about Victoria. But…why come back to Forks?"

Carlisle's hands paused. His warm golden eyes met mine, and I could see the pain in them. A pain that, for some unnamable reason, I felt I was the cause of. Quietly he spoke, "Bella, do you really believe that we would abandon you to such a fate? Do you think we could stand back as you're killed by our kind?"

Any bitter response about abandonment and leaving me to a slow demise died on my tongue in the face of his sincere incredulity. It was then that I came to the realization that he didn't know. Carlisle had no idea what their leaving all those months ago had done to me. He didn't know how I had suffered and withered away to almost nothing. And if _he_ was ignorant, what more could any of the others possibly know?

I was a human after all. And we were fickle, shallow creatures. Hadn't Edward always told me that we didn't feel as deeply and irrevocably as vampires? The Cullen's leaving should have been nothing more than a passing disappointment in my short, mercurial human life.

Of course in actuality, it'd been anything but fleeting.

But that wasn't Carlisle's fault, was it? _I _was the weak one. _I_ was the one who was needy and was incapable of letting them go. So, Edward hadn't wanted me anymore. He couldn't help his feelings, and he certainly wasn't responsible for me taking it so poorly.

I was pathetic.

But they'd come back to save me anyway. Because that was the kind of people the Cullen's were.

"I'm sorry, Carlisle," I murmured, feeling deeply guilty for the unspoken accusation, but that didn't mean I felt their compassion was deserved. "It's just…Victoria is dangerous. And when she realizes that you're back, she might come after you too. She wants revenge for James."

His smile was warm, and I knew that I was forgiven. "That would be a good thing seeing as how we're a bit more durable than you are."

"But I have the pack." It escaped without me thinking, and I immediately regretted the lapse in control over my tongue. I wasn't sure how much Edward had divulged to his family, and the last thing I wanted to do was give away Jacob's secret when it wasn't mine to tell.

Carlisle nodded solemnly, not appearing a bit surprised. "Yes, I heard that a new generation of Quileutes has been demonstrating an activation of the latent gene. It's quite something actually."

Then he'd already known. Had Edward know about the wolves before he'd…before he'd left? If he'd known and not told me, then what else had he hid? Was there any truth at all to what he'd once claimed to feel for me?

Carlisle, as if sensing my despair, squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, Bella. We'll get this worked out."

I wished that—just once—someone could say those words and I would believe them.

* * *

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No," I answered Charlie quickly as I hurried past him down the sterile, white hallway, not giving him the chance to linger and confront Carlisle. That was one conversation that really didn't need to happen.

Charlie had no choice but to rush after me, as I practically sprinted for the hospital doors.

"So you got your stitches out?" he asked, once we'd made it to the cruiser.

"Yep." Impatiently I bounced on my heels, waiting for him to unlock the doors. The sooner I got to the car, the sooner I would get to school, and the sooner I would escape Charlie's scrutiny. I wasn't prepared for his concerned questions, and my mind was too crowded and muddled to give him satisfying responses.

"That's great, Bells."

Ducking into the car, I nodded. It was great. Really. But it was also the farthest thing from my mind at the moment.

All of the Cullens were back. And they were here for the sole purpose of hunting down my would-be tormenter.

Jacob had been wrong. Edward hadn't come back because he loved me. And the tiny, delicate part of my heart that had dared to hope, dared to even _consider_ the possibility of it being true, flickered painfully before dimming out of existence.

"You're looking kind of green," Charlie muttered, eyes glancing concernedly in my direction. "If you're not feeling good, I could always call the school and let them know that I kept you home."

I considered it for a full five seconds before reassuring Charlie that I would be fine making it through what was left of school. If I were to go home now, I would have nothing to distract me from my spiraling thoughts. Not to mention that it would be safer for both Charlie and myself to have me at school where I was surrounded by a crowd of people—witnesses—and to have him at the station, as far from me as possible. Me sitting at home with him hovering in the next room while we waited for Victoria to come eat me wasn't my ideal way to spend the day. In fact, now that I didn't have the luxury of the pack's constant protection in Forks, I would have to spend as much time as possible away from home.

By the time we reached the school, the light rain that had started up while we'd been in the hospital had petered away, but heavy gray clouds continued to permeate the sky. There was no sun in the forecast for the next several days.

As I clambered out of the cruiser, Charlie called after me. I turned to see him struggling with no small amount of uncertainty, and he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before settling on, "Have a good day."

I knew what he meant. "I will."

The bell for lunch rang just as I stepped through the front doors, and I bypassed stopping by my locker in favor of heading straight to the cafeteria. I had my lunch and was seated at the usual table before most of the students had even showed up.

"How did your appointment go?" Angela asked as she took the seat beside me, Ben not two steps behind her.

"Good. I got my stitches out." I was touched that she'd even remembered.

"Oh, that's great, Bella!" But there was a strain to her smile. I looked around at Ben, Mike, Eric, and Tyler to see that they were all staring uneasily at the table. Lauren and Jessica both look annoyed.

"Angela?"

She hesitated, but Jessica was having none of that. "Really, she might as well know. It's not like she's not gonna figure it out in the next five minutes." Flipping her bouncy hair back over her shoulder, she leaned forward in her seat. "The Cullens are back."

I blinked in confusion. I'd known that already. But the question was how _they_ had figured it out so quickly. Sure it was small town, but it had been less than a day. Unless…

Right on cue, all eyes at our table flickered past me to what could only be the cafeteria doors. And that's when I felt it.

The tingling along the back of my neck. The twitching of my fingers. The dryness of my throat. The sudden sharpening of my senses.

Edward had walked into the room. And I didn't have to turn around to confirm it.

I watched the eyes of my classmates as they tracked his progress to the lunch line and then finally to the table he and his family had exiled themselves to during my junior year.

It was Jessica's indignant sneer that broke the table from its mute trance. "They're staring at you, Bella. God, could they be any more creepy?"

They? Reflexively I whipped my head around, easily locating the two otherworldly beautiful individuals across the room. Edward and Alice. And they were staring at me—Alice less obviously so. But I didn't allow myself to linger and quickly slouched forward in my seat.

"…doesn't even have the right to look at you after what he did," Jessica babbled on loudly. "If I were you, Bella, I wouldn't give him the time of day. Does he know that you have a new boyfriend who's like so much hotter than him? I bet he'd be totally jealous. Maybe he'll have Spanish with us. You can tell me all about how good of a kisser Jacob is, and Edward can just _happen_ to overhear."

"_Jessica_!" Angela hissed, and I wanted to tell her that it was a wasted effort. They could hear everything. Both spoken and unspoken.

"Thanks, Jessica." I forced a small smile. "But I think I'll pass."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. Take the high road. But it's less traveled for a reason."

Unsurprisingly I felt nauseous for the reminder of the period, and I urgently offered my lunch up to Eric just to get it out my sight. If the constant shivers down my spine were any indication, Edward never once took his eyes off me, and by the time the bell rang, I had to forcefully pry my sore fingers from the edges of my linoleum chair in order to follow Angela to my next class.

The moment I stepped outside my breathing evened out, and my fuddled thoughts began to clear.

Angela looked at me sympathetically. "You okay?"

I exhaled loudly. "Just…surprised." Yes, I'd known that they were back in town, but I hadn't expected them to go so far as to actually return to _school_. With less than a month before the end of the year (and the small fact that both Alice and Edward had about a dozen high school diplomas already) it seemed pointless—and unnecessarily permanent. I couldn't comprehend their motivation.

Not for the first time, I was amazed by Angela's sensitivity when she smiled supportively and changed the topic to the English paper that was due at the end of the week.

For the rest of the afternoon I entered each of my classes breath held, dreading that I'd walk into the room to find Edward sitting statuesquely at one of the rickety old desks, looking beautifully out of place. But each time I was able to release a relieved sigh. Neither Edward or Alice made an appearance.

It wasn't Edward that I was afraid of so much as my reaction to being in such close proximity to him. That night in the woods I had been almost completely incapacitated by his presence. I hadn't been able to form cohesive sentences or coherent thoughts, and when he'd touched me I'd wanted to crawl out of my skin. And though he couldn't read my mind, those were all physical reactions he could very easily detect.

I was terrified that he would know. I was terrified that he would take one look at me and know that I was just as hopelessly—pathetically—in love with him as I had been before. And while my heart was now safe in Jacob's care, I didn't think my pride could take Edward's rejection a second time. So I had to avoid him until I was strong enough to either face his dismissal or mask my desperate feelings.

I was slow in heading to the parking lot once the last bell rang—I wanted to give Edward and Alice plenty of time leave before I even arrived. But as I exited the school, I found that a sizeable group of students were still lingering on the grounds. And it didn't take long to figure out what they were all gawking at.

Jacob. Or more correctly, Jacob and his motorcycle.

I blinked away my own surprise at seeing him, and hurried over to where he was leaning comfortably against the recently reupholstered seat. Seeing the glossy black bike had me recalling the rusted, nearly unrecognizable heap it had started off as, and—not for the first time—I found myself dumbstruck by Jacob's talent. He could go places.

"Hey." I smiled in greeting, eagerly accepting the hand he held out to me. "This is a very pleasant surprise."

"Well, Charlie called with the good news, so I figured some celebrating was in order." As always his good mood was contagious, and I felt my own spirits being buoyed.

"What kind of celebrating? Aside from the obvious: reckless motorcycle riding."

He grinned, happy that I was going along with his schemes. "Dunno. What does a girl normally do when she gets her abdominal stitches out?"

"Mmmm. Take a bath. A real one." I almost melted at the thought of taking a full thirty minute soak.

My starry-eyed expression caused him to laugh. "Okay. So a motorcycle ride and a bubble bath. Sounds good."

"Sounds perfect." Leaning against his shoulder, I murmured, "Then afterward we could head back to your place, or walk on the beach, or get Quil to do his awful John Madden impersonation."

Jacob nodded his agreement. "Always good for a few laughs. Sometimes because he chokes on his own tongue, but usually because he's a six and half foot Native American emulating a stumpy, white-haired, white man with a speech impediment." And I knew he understood my reasoning for wanting to be in La Push.

Which reminded me that I should probably tell him about Alice and Edward. "Hey, Jake? Just so you know…" His body tensed beneath my cheek, and as I turned my head to follow his dark gaze a low growl built in his throat.

I caught only a glimpse of Edward's approaching figure before I was staring at the back of Jacob's faded black t-shirt.

"Cullen," Jacob half spat. And it wasn't so much of a greeting as it was a curse.

"Jacob." Edward's voice was cool, smooth, and carefully controlled. A step up to Jacob's side allowed me to see that his face was just as collected. I noticed that his eyes, which had been stormy black a few nights ago, were now a bright ochre. He'd fed recently.

The two stared each other down as the remaining students watched on in interest, most likely hoping to catch a fight. It was an unsettling thought. I didn't consider either Jacob or Edward to be violent people, but the tension between them was unmistakable.

As my eyes flickered back and forth anxiously between them, I summoned up all of my strength to intervene. Clearing my throat, I asked, "Did you need something, Edward?"

His gaze fell to me, and I knew both men could hear the quickening of my heart.

"Yes," he answered, only allowing his eyes to linger on me for a moment before looking back at Jacob. "We need to talk."

Jacob snorted. "Really? Because I think I've heard all I want to hear from you. And I_ know_ you've heard more than you wanted to hear from me."

"Not,"—Edward's voice dropped so low I could hardly make it out from five feet away—"with you. With the pack. My family wishes to discuss what precautions you are taking."

"Precautions," Jacob echoed dryly.

"For Bella's safety."

Next to me, Jacob bristled, and I immediately wrapped my hand around his in an attempt to soothe him.

"Bella," he bit out, "is perfectly safe. And we don't need _you_ to confirm that for us."

Edward didn't look a bit ruffled by Jacob's open hostility. "Nevertheless, we'd still like to meet with you. Tonight. At the treaty line."

Jacob was openly scowling, but I knew that he couldn't say 'no.' He was obligated to tell Sam about the proposal whether he wanted to or not.

But instead of answering, Jacob turned and swung his long leg over the motorcycle, gesturing for me to climb on back. I hadn't even gotten myself situated when Edward appeared at my side, a hair's breadth away. He looked down at me with narrowed eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Going home." A small surge of pride went through me when I didn't shrink away. I squeezed Jacob's waist and he revved the engine to life in response.

Faster than he should have been moving in public, Edward was in front of the bike, hands braced on the handle bars beside Jacob's as he leaned towards me. "Absolutely not."

Beneath my hands, a tremor passed through Jacob's body. "Edward," I warned.

"If you think," he hissed, "That I'm going to let you ride out of here on this _deathtrap_ then—"

"Remove your hands now," Jacob ordered, his voice low and dripping with threat, "or I'll remove your hands _and_ your arms for you."

Feeling that things were quickly spiraling out of control, I glanced around the parking lot until I spotted Alice, who was standing by the Volvo, face crumpled in intense concentration. "Alice," I whispered, and she immediately snapped out of her daze and met my pleading eyes.

Taking only a moment to assess the situation, she loped gracefully to Edward's side and placed a tiny hand on his arm. "Edward, stop. She'll be fine."

"You don't know that," he all but growled, still not looking away from me.

"But you do," she replied serenely, and I could've sworn that her eyes flickered to Jacob for the briefest of moments.

Slowly—reluctantly—Edward relaxed his hold before taking a small step back. That was all the space Jacob needed. Tires screaming against the pavement, he peeled backward before streaking towards the exit, leaving Edward, Alice, and a third of the school staring after us.

* * *

**AN:** Gotta love Bella's self-deprecating logic in the hospital, right? At least she's consistent.

Loved every single one of the reviews I received after last chapter, so thank you guys for that. *waves at all the newcomers* Howdy.

As always, share your thoughts on this chapter with me, and I promise to babble back. :D


	19. Taking Sides

**Zenith**

_Chapter Nineteen – Taking Sides_

* * *

"Well, let's see 'em."

Two steps into Sam and Emily's house and I was already being hounded. "See what?"

Quil rolled his eyes. "The scars."

"Eh…" I shifted uncomfortably. Jacob had already thundered off to find Sam, so I couldn't count on him to run interference.

"I bet they're wicked, aren't they?"

Hoping to dodge the discussion altogether, I shrugged noncommittally. "I haven't really looked."

I might as well have told him I had 12 toes. "You haven't looked! How can you not have looked? Battle wounds are meant to be worn with pride and embellished with dramatic retellings of how you earned them." With a shake of his head he explained, "For instance, instead of saying that you were attacked by an angry, psycho werewolf, you tell people that after killing a rabid polar bear's mate with only a stone and your bare hands, it chased you for two miles until it knocked you off a cliff into the ocean, where you had to wrestle with it until a shark happened by and snapped it right up. Then, you killed the shark and used its fat to keep you warm in the arctic waters, where you waited for twelve hours until hitching a ride on a Russian submarine. Oh and make sure everyone thinks you almost died."

"But I _did_ almost die."

Quil gave me an encouraging thumbs-up. "Good, say it just like that every time."

"Atera,"—Leah breezed past us—"fuck off."

"I think she likes you," Quil commented in wonder, as we watched Leah stalk off into the living room, where the rest of pack was slowly convening. Jacob had called Sam from my house to relay Edward's proposition while I rushed through a shower—not quite the luxurious soak I had hoped for—and packed an overnight bag.

"What's that for?" Jacob had asked when he'd seen the small duffle bag thrown over my shoulder as I came down the stairs.

"Just in case," I'd responded with a shrug, and though he'd looked suspicious he hadn't questioned me further.

Now, twenty minutes later, all of the guys were buzzing around the house, chatting with excitement at the prospect of a conflict involving multiple vampires. As keen as Sam was on keeping the treaty intact, I couldn't imagine the Cullens and the pack actually coming to blows. But that wasn't what the guys wanted to hear, so I found a seat and kept my opinions to myself.

"Too bad you can't come with us tonight, Quil," Paul crooned with false sympathy as he fell onto the sofa on the other side of me. Squished between the two of them I felt my body begin to warm.

Quil frowned over my head at him. "What d'ya mean?"

"Oh, you know. Since you have to babysit now."

From Paul's tone, I could clearly tell that it was meant as a taunt, even if I couldn't begin comprehending it.

Quil, however, must have understood the jibe perfectly because his entire body tensed. "Fuck you, Paul."

Paul's grin turned predatory. "No need to get testy just because you'll be changing diapers while I'm shredding apart bloodsuckers."

A low, menacing growl ripped from Quil's chest, and just as he shifted to lunge, a hot arm yanked me back against a burning chest.

"Not without going through Bella, first!" Paul crowed, hopping up from the couch with me in hand as his human shield.

Following our hasty retreat, Quil scoffed from his crouched position. "What? You think hiding behind Wednesday there is going to keep you safe?"

Feet dangling inches above the ground, I felt my face burned at the slight. "Hey!"

"Sure," Paul said over my shoulder sounding smug. "Unless _you_ want to explain to Jake why his girlfriend ended up as the center of a tasty werewolf sandwich?"

"Eww," Seth groaned. "Mental images. Make them stop."

"Enough." I heard Sam enter the room behind us, and Jake suddenly appeared in my line of sight.

"Paul," he said pointedly, "your hand is on my girlfriend's ass."

"He said she was tasty," Quil goaded.

Paul pushed me into Jacob's arms with a dramatic sigh. "If I ever hand my pair over to a girl like either of you have, do me a favor and put me out of my misery."

"Heard and testified," Embry called from his relaxed position in the recliner across the small room. "And I call dibs."

Jacob sat on the floor, settling me between his legs as the bickering continued over the top of us.

"No, Embry,"—Quill puffed out his chest—"_I_ have dibs. It was _my_ Claire that he insulted. But, hey, since I'm a generous guy, I'll let you hold him down as I beat the shit out of his pretty face."

Turning to press my lips to Jacob's ear so that no one else could hear, I murmured, "Did Quil get a girl pregnant?"

Jacob choked on his suppressed laughter, barely hiding his amusement behind a forced cough. "Um, no. I'll explain it later." He sealed the promise with a quick kiss to my jaw, and though my curiosity was peeked, I compliantly sat back against him.

All of the pack was in the room by now, Quil and Paul on the couch behind us, Embry off to our right, Leah leaning against the wall just past him, Jared in the over-stuffed arm chair, and Seth on the floor at his feet. Sam was standing at the entrance to the living room, talking to two men I didn't recognize from the back. Soon enough Sam gestured for them to take a seat as well, and when I caught sight of their faces, I realized that they weren't men at all. They were boys.

It was the eyes that gave them away. While their bodies were large and almost fully developed like those of grown men, their eyes spoke of innocence and a touch of uncertainty. They were the eyes that Jacob used to have.

"Collin and Brady," Jacob said by way of explanation. "They're new."

"They're young," I mused quietly, and I felt him nod his agreement.

"Yeah, they are," he sighed.

I wished that I could do more than squeeze his knee in comfort, but there was little I wanted to say surrounded by his brothers.

"I've talked with council," Sam suddenly began, not bothering to beat around the bush, "and they agree that we should meet with the Cullens." Most everyone in the room seemed pleased by this—except for Leah, who never seemed pleased by anything. "We'll go to hear their intentions. We'll find out how long they'll be staying and make sure they still plan to honor the treaty."

"How do we know this isn't some trap? That one bloodsucker could read our minds. Who knows what other freaky powers they have," Quil muttered.

"Nervous?" Paul grinned. "Maybe you _should_ stay home to babysit."

I spoke up before Quil could retort. "The Cullen's would never do that." At everyone's doubtful expressions, I licked my lips before continuing a little uncertainly. "Look, I know you think all vampires are monsters that need to be destroyed. And I understand that that's because that's the only kind of vampire you've encountered. But the Cullen's aren't like Laurent or Victoria. You don't know them. But I do. They aren't out to trick you."

Sam was watching me carefully while everyone else sat in relative quiet, still looking cynical. "And the extra abilities?" he asked.

I sighed. There really wasn't any reason for me not to tell them. "Edward can read minds, except mine. Alice, the small, spiky-haired one, can see the future. And Jasper…he's tall and has a lot of scars…he can tell how you are feeling." I hesitated before adding, "And he can influence your emotions."

Sam's eyebrows shot up, and others started voicing their concerns.

"I don't like the sound of that."

"Like I said, freaky…"

"Wait, why don't _we_ get cool powers?"

"So…he's like PMS on legs."

"He's the first one we should take out. Then the mind reader."

With everyone talking over each other, it was impossible for me to be heard without shouting, and I twisted around to shoot Jacob a helpless look. He just shrugged. Apparently this was normal behavior.

"Be quiet, all of you," Sam barked, and the room fell into grudging silence. Then he looked encouragingly at me when he saw I still had more to say. "Bella?"

"Most likely Jasper will only use his powers to keep everyone calm if things start getting out of hand. I've had him use his gift on me before, and I could probably tell you if I think he's doing anything more than that." I had enough experience that I was pretty confident in being able to tell whether Jasper was trying to manipulate me or not. "Those are the only three with special abilities." As an after-thought I mentioned, "Carlisle, the doctor, he's the head of the coven. He'll be the one you want to talk to."

"Wait, wait, wait." Embry was waving his arms for attention. "For you to be able to tell us, that would mean you would have to actually be there." He looked at me with excitement. "Are you coming with us tonight?"

I could only look hopefully at Sam, who didn't look exactly pleased at the prospect, but nodded nonetheless. "She's coming."

Almost immediately a dull roar went around the room—which included a cheeky comment from Paul that if Jacob got to bring me, then Quil should be allowed to bring his baby—but Sam quickly had things back under control and had everyone focused on what the plan would be for that evening.

As the talking continued, an exhilarating mix of dread and excitement started building up inside of me. The stress of repressing the strange emotion so that it didn't physically manifest itself had my heart racing, and Jacob was tracing pseudo circles along my back in an effort to banish the anxiety. It only served to heighten my senses.

I would be going with the pack. To see the Cullen's.

A shiver of anticipation shot up my spine.

When I'd left the house earlier with Jacob, I'd been fully prepared to fight tooth and nail for my right to be there when the two families met. If they were going to be discussing me and my 'safety,' then I had the right to have input. I needed to be present to veto whatever ridiculous, over-the-top schemes that were sure to be suggested.

But I hadn't anticipated Sam's easy acceptance.

After my stressful day at school, I should have been dreading to see them, the Cullens. All of them together. Separate from me. And to a certain extent, I was. But beyond that there was this longing to look upon the faces of my once-future family.

Over the last several weeks, I had found a place in La Push and a place with the people who lived there. Emily's mothering, Kim's jabbering, Sam's authority, Embry's teasing, Leah's honesty, and Jacob's love were all irrevocably a part of me. They were the _good_ part of me.

But…the Cullens were a part of me too. And as cracked and tarnished as that part was, it was just as permanent. My affections had never been temporary, committed as I was to my path.

And I missed them. Terribly.

Sam eventually dismissed everyone after establishing that we would reconvene at one a.m. to head out to the treaty line.

After helping me stand, Jacob said, "I'll be at your house at 12:30. Charlie will be asleep by then, and we'll sneak you out the window. Time to let your inner rebellious teen run wild."

"Actually, that won't be necessary."

"Why?" Jacob asked, looking amused. "Are you saying that Isabella Swan is radical enough on her own to escape through her bedroom window in the middle of the night to meet up with her sexy, dangerous boyfriend? No need to unchain the restless axe murderer lurking in the darker parts of your subconscious?"

"Actually it's a ninja assassin, not an axe murderer. And, no, I won't have to climb out any windows because I'll just stay the night here. I have my stuff." I bent to retrieve the small duffle bag from the floor.

Jacob eyed me uneasily. "Look, Bells, as much as I would love to have you sleepover, I'm not sure your dad would go for that. Heck, I don't think _my_ dad would go for that. It's a school night, and…well, you saw the way he looked at me last time."

Ugh. There was no way I was going to sit at home by myself for hours just waiting. And waiting.

"She can stay at our place."

Both Jacob and I blinked at Leah incredulously.

She rolled her eyes at our silence. "What? My mom will be cool with it, and Charlie won't tell her 'no.'"

I blinked dumbly again. "He won't?"

Leah gave a small grimace of a smile. "No."

Before agreeing to her offer, I caught Jacob's expression out of the corner of my eye. He looked wary and on the verge of refusal.

In a single step I had my arms wrapped around his waist and my chin resting on his chest as I peered up at him persuasively through my eyelashes. "You'll come over to kiss me goodnight before I go to bed, won't you?"

I was only vaguely aware of the choking sounds coming from Leah, as Jacob's frown twitched and then disappeared. He ran his hands along my shoulder blades twice, and I knew that victory was mine.

"Sure, sure."

* * *

Leah was right. Charlie didn't say 'no' to Sue. The woman was iron-willed and didn't even bat an eye when she told Charlie over the phone, "You know how hard it's been, and I think Leah really needs a friend right now. I'll make sure Bella gets to school on time."

I envied Leah that her parent knew about the secret world we'd both been dragged into. But then again, if Charlie did know, he would never let me out of his sight, let alone out of the house. Sue, I thought, was a very strong woman.

"So, here are the ground rules." Leah was tossing dirty clothes into the hamper, as I dropped my bag next to the deflated air mattress lying on her bedroom floor. "We will not be painting each other's nails, I will not braid your hair, I don't want to hear about how awful a kisser Jacob is, and you won't touch my condom drawer. I know exactly how many are in there."

I quirked an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

"No. But if you rather, I can tell you the same thing I tell Seth: that the drawer's booby trapped and his fingers'll be burnt off by acid if he tries to open it."

I didn't miss a beat. "So you know exactly how many are in there."

She smirked then seemed to realize what she was doing and frowned.

I sighed. "Thanks, Leah, for letting me stay here."

Her bed sunk as she settled on it with a graceless shrug, sketchbook in hand and pencil weaved between restless fingers. "Yeah, sure." She flipped to a clean page and stared at it. After a long moment of silence, I took that as my cue to become scarce.

Jacob was waiting for me in the Clearwaters' kitchen. He and Sue were at the table talking amiably but with grave expressions when I entered. Jacob saw me first.

"Bella." My name sounded like a vow when it come so purposefully off his lips like that, and I felt a light tingling in my stomach as my cheeks flushed. His eyes followed the spreading pink across my face.

"Jake," I breathed.

He held my gaze a moment longer before reluctantly looking away as he stood. "Thanks again, Sue. We'll see you later tonight, or tomorrow morning, or whatever ungodly time of day it'll be when we get back."

Sue's small smile was sincere if not very vibrant. "Of course. You both be careful." She gave Jacob a meaningful look. "Don't do anything reckless."

"Hey, if anyone should be getting that look it's her," he complained, pointing an accusing finger in my direction. "'Reckless' is Bella's middle name. If it was up to her we'd be going to this shindig blindfolded with our hands tied behind our backs while riding unicycles."

Because I couldn't hit him without hurting and embarrassing myself, I had to settle for a good eye-roll as I pushed my way past him to Sue's side. "Thank you, Sue, for letting me stay here. And for convincing Charlie."

A fluttering hand waved away my thanks. "I do what I can." And she wished that she could do more.

Jacob and I headed out, and when we couldn't decide on anything extraordinary to do in celebration of my latest hospital visit, we ended up on the familiar path to First Beach.

With Jacob's large, warm hand engulfing my own, we meandered for several minutes in silence. The waves rolled in against the shore in an endless round that echoed hauntingly against the high cliff faces just a little farther off down the beach. Gritty sand compressed beneath my sneaker with each step, and I marveled at how soundlessly Jacob moved beside me. The salty gusts of wind blowing in off the water were strong, but they lacked the chill bite of a Washington Spring. Summer would be arriving soon.

"It's later."

Jacob looked at me blankly.

"Quil's baby?" I prodded.

"Ah,"—he grimaced—"that." He bent down to scoop a small rock from the shore and held it in his free hand. Compulsively he began smoothing his thumb along the rough, chipped surface. "Quil imprinted on Emily's niece Claire."

"Oh." My eyes dropped to the sand.

"She's two."

My face snapped back up to his. "What?"

He nodded in understanding of my shock. "Do you remember what I told you about imprinting? That he'll be whatever he needs her to be?"

How could I forget? I nodded mutely.

"Well, his feelings towards her aren't romantic. For now." He gestured for me to take a seat, and I belatedly realized that we'd reached our usual piece of driftwood. Once Jacob was sitting beside me, he continued, "All he cares about is what's best for her. And right now that means making sure she doesn't lose her favorite stuffed giraffe and helping her get potty-trained."

Jacob didn't sound like he envied his friend's position. "But how will that work? The age difference?"

He shrugged. "He'll wait for her. As long as he's phasing, he won't age. And when she's old enough, if she wants him to be her boyfriend, he will be. And if she wants him to be her friend, then he'll be that."

The more he elaborated the more ill I felt. This was a topic I still hadn't completely come to terms with yet. Blindly, I grasped for a change in conversation. "Jacob, what happened today in the parking lot?"

Not that this was much of an improvement.

Jacob seemed to agree as he forcefully threw the stone he'd been holding out past the foaming waves. "What do you mean?"

"You and Edward. It was…tense." More like dangerously volatile. "I thought you two had talked or something."

The smile he cast out to the sea was sardonic. "He loves you. I get that. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

There was accusation in his tone. It was subtle but undeniably there.

"You're frustrated with me," I said, surprised.

He ducked his head, gave me a good long stare, and said, "Yeah. Guess I am a little." He snorted. "A lot."

It hurt knowing that I'd disappointed him in some way. Letting Jacob down was the last thing I wanted. But he couldn't possibly expect me to believe that Edward had ever been more than fascinated by me.

"Look," he sighed, catching my down-turned chin between his fingers, "I want you, Bella. I want you to choose me." He punctuated each word with undeniable sincerity, as if he were afraid I wouldn't believe him. As if I could doubt his love for me.

A ridiculous notion that needed to be immediately quelled.

Closing the short distance between us, I slid sideways onto his lap, my legs tucked to one side as I encircled my arms around his neck. His hands habitually slid around my waist. "I know you love me, Jacob." I wished that I had half of his capability with words to express how much it meant that he so adamantly cherished me. "It's in everything you do. Every time I see you…it's in your smile, it's when you hold my hand and don't want to let go, it's in those crazy bikes you slaved over, it's the way you make me _want_ something again, and it's in the way you touch me. Mm, Jake,"—I leaned my forehead against his, breathless and overwhelmed by everything he was to me—"I feel so loved when you touch me."

His arms flexed, pulling me closer. To maintain my grip I had to release the material of his t-shirt from my clenched fists and thread my fingers through his sleek hair that was beginning to wave over the tops of his ears. I tugged, pleased when he moved willingly so that I could press my lips to his own.

A sweep of my tongue and his mouth opened to mine. My body thrilled at the new depth, the intimacy of tasting, _really_ tasting, someone for only the second time. One of Jacob's hands tangled in the mess of my brown hair—still windblown from our earlier ride—as the other grasped sporadically at my waist.

My tongue and teeth were intent on seeking out more—and more, and more—of Jacob, but air was in too short supply, and I had to break away to take inconvenient, gasping breaths. Jacob's lips dipped down my jaw to settle on my exposed neck, and the resulting crackle of electricity I felt when he raked his teeth down to my shoulder, shot straight through.

I was suddenly taken back to the well-worn paperback Renee had shoved into my hands the evening of my twelfth birthday—a substitute for the _Dr. D's Birds and Bees_ film being shown in health class. "You might as well get all the facts," she'd said before carefully closing my bedroom door. I'd blushed my way through half of _Taken in the Dark_ and skipped the rest, swearing off any book that featured busty damsels in the arms of half-naked men on the cover.

The words that had seemed so histrionic at the time now resonated with the slow blaze that started low in my abdomen and burned outward, my veins a ready wick.

I cupped his face in between my hands and directed him back upward. A lock of hair had fallen over one of his eyes, and I gently brushed it back with my thumb. "I love you."

His response was to kiss me again.

* * *

"You want me to _what_?"

"He wants you to ride him," Quil leered.

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Shut it, Quil. Bella, it's the fastest way, and it'll be easy. I'll phase and you just hop on back."

"That's what she said."

"Quil—"

"What if I fall! Which, is pretty likely considering, you know, my rap sheet at the emergency room."

"Honey, I promise it'll be fine. It's like riding the bike—"

"That's what she said."

"—You'll have to grip with your legs and wrap your arms around—"

"That's what she said."

"I swear, Quil, if you don't—"

"There has to be _something_ we can use to secure me. Maybe like a harness?"

Embry chortled and patted Jacob's shoulder sympathetically. "Man, she's already gunning to put a leash on you. Not good, man. Not good."

"Embry!" Bella scolded, "We're supposed to be friends."

"Yeah, and the moment I see Jacob abusing you, you'll have my complete sympathy. But right now, he's not the one talking about harnesses."

Quil cackled quietly. "Kinky."

"You know what?" Jacob interrupted. "It's time to go. So I'm gonna phase and Embry will help you get situated."

"Whoa." Quil smirked. "Threesome. Super kinky."

I watched Jacob jog off into the darkness of the tree line. It was almost one a.m., and we were just waiting on Sam to show up with Collin and Brady.

Of course I had assumed that the pack would be meeting the Cullens in their wolf forms, buy I hadn't given any thought to how I would be arriving at the designated meeting spot. At the moment thinks were going a bit too _Princess Mononoke_ for my tastes.

No sooner had he left, Jacob reappeared in all of his wolf glory, and as he slowly moved towards me, I gasped.

He was huge, as tall as a horse but broader. Beautiful russet fur flashed in the moonlight with every step he took forward, while his paws—the size of dinner plates—splayed in the moist grass. I shouldn't have been as stunned as I was; I'd seen him like this before. But never quite this…close.

He stopped, big brown eyes—Jacob's eyes—inches away from mine.

"Jake?" I breathed. He let a high-pitched whine and leaned forward until his muzzle grazed my cheek. His hot breath puffed down my collar.

The gesture was soothing, and I tentatively raised a hand to run in through the fur at his neck. It was stiff but soft to the touch, and when I drew my fingers away they felt chilled.

I didn't get a chance to ponder the strange sensations before Embry was grabbing me up in his arms. "Sam's here," he explained and waited for Jacob to crouch low to the ground before placing me just behind his front legs.

Quil watched me struggle to find a comfortable position. "Be gentle, Bella," he advised. "It's the kid's first time."

Jacob's sizeable teeth snapped in Quil's face, but he just turned away laughing and followed Embry into the trees.

As the pack continued to assemble, I tightened my hold around Jacob's neck and rested my head against the back of his. "I'm serious, Jake. If I fall this relationship is over."

He let out a stilted barking sound that resembled a laugh.

Seeing the entire pack together like this was an intimidating site. While Sam and Jacob were certainly the two largest wolves, no one could be termed small. And there were ten of them. I couldn't help but compare their numbers to the Cullens' seven.

One moment everyone was standing around and the next the entire pack simultaneously shot off into the woods. I swallowed the 'yelp' that threatened to escape and squeezed my eyes shut as the foliage turned to blurs.

Riding on the back of a werewolf was quite similar to riding on the back of a vampire. The wolves moved silently through the trees, and I was hardly jostled at all. With my eyes closed the only clue that I was moving was the air whipping across my face and the contraction and release of Jacob's powerful muscles beneath me. And then there was that eerie coolness that continued to seep into my skin.

In three minutes we reached the edge of Quileute land, and Jacob slowed to a reasonable enough pace that I risked opening my eyes. Sam made a sudden left hand turn and for several moments we followed a straight path that I could only imagine was the infamous treaty line.

As we entered a small clearing the entire pack's ears perked, tension building as they let loose growls and anxious whines. Sam came to a halt and everyone effortlessly fell into rank on either side, forming a loose semi-circle. Jacob knelt down at Sam's right flank, and with a little bit of maneuvering I managed to slide harmlessly to my feet. I kept a hand on Jacob's side to settle myself while my legs took their time solidifying beneath me.

I tried to see what the wolves were so fixedly staring at in distance but could make out nothing, no matter how hard I squinted. And then, ever-so-slowly, pale figures began creeping forward—like white sails emerging from a harbor's fog—until one-by-one I could make out each Cullen perfectly.

* * *

**AN:** Um, I have three brothers. Hence the plethora of "that's what she said" jokes. :P

Thanks, you guys, for the feedback you continue to send my way. And if you want, you can now stop in and visit me at A Different Forrest, if any of you happen to be familiar with the site (which you should be because it's pretty awesome). I was recently elected to be a VIP Author of there, so I have free reign over my own forum (just click on the "VIP Cabins" button at the top of the page. My cabin is the one Jacob's standing outside of.). I would love to see you there!


	20. Agreement

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twenty – Agreement_

* * *

The Cullens were situated in a wide "V" across the small field, Carlisle at the head with the others tapering off. Edward, Jasper and Alice stood to his left, and Emmett, Esme and Rosalie to his right. They were all attempting masks of neutrality as they took in the small army of wolves, but even after our time apart, I could register small variances in their demeanors. A small sneer curled Rosalie's lips, Esme's brow was furrowed in concern, Emmet looked pleased, Carlisle's eyes widened slightly in surprise, Edward was concentrating, Jasper was stiff with tension, and Alice's mouth was twitching with annoyance.

And then rather simultaneously, the fixation of their amber eyes moved from the pack to me.

I held my breath….and watched with fleeting anxiety as their scrutiny warmed to concern and finally relief. Esme smiled affectionately, as Emmet gave an enthusiastic wink and wave—the latter I returned hesitantly. Alice, whom hadn't allowed my mind to focus on for more than five seconds at school, was practically vibrating where she stood, and I felt an inexplicable ache to wrap my arms around her and sob hysterically. Even Jasper appeared to relax minutely. Rosalie and Edward were the only two who remained unaffected.

"Bella," Carlisle acknowledged me warmly with a nod. Then he focused his sights back on Sam. "Thank you for meeting with us tonight."

Sam's massive black head dipped in response. I nearly jumped in surprise when Edward's smooth tenor rang strongly across the distance. "We are pleased that you are willing to share information with us regarding your return. However, I am sure that you can understand why we will retain these forms."

It was a strange thought that Edward could look into the pack's shared psyche. In this situation, it was rather useful that he could speak on behalf of Sam, but I couldn't help but feel that by looking into the minds of my family, he was somehow looking inside of _me_ for the first time. Jacob knew more about me than anyone.

Carlisle nodded, clearly receiving the message. "We understand, and it is our hope that we can build a bond of trust, as we now work towards a common goal."

"The vampire is our concern," Edward relayed detachedly. "We will not be needing assistance."

There was a disbelieving snort from Emmett, and despite Rosalie glaring a hole into the back of his head, he muttered, "Right, like we're going to let _you_ have all the fun."

"It is our responsibility that she is here to begin with," Carlisle quickly continued before Emmett could get another word in, "so we will see to it that she is removed. And I am sure that you can ascertain as to what our main concern is in having her destroyed as promptly as possible."

I knew that he meant me. Wrapping an arm around Jacob's front leg, I leaned into his side, awaiting Sam's response.

"That concern has been transferred to us."

I was sure that I looked as surprised as I felt. Sam was advocating for me?

Edward continued to speak, but his words became clipped with tension. "Her safety is a pack interest, and your presence in Forks is only hindering our ability to provide her complete protection."

Alice was openly scoffing and Emmett guffawed out loud. "Please," he grinned. "A pack of pups ain't got nothing on us. We could take you _all_ out right now. Child's play."

"Emmett," Carlisle warned, but it was too late. The wolves were bristling, their hackles raised as they snapped angrily in Emmet's direction, some even beginning to move forward. Jacob remained still beside me.

As quickly as tensions had risen, it dissipated into a cloud of calmness and patience. I relaxed further into Jacob's warm fur, and felt the loosening of his muscles beneath my hand. The rest of the pack slunk back into formation.

Jasper.

Sam seemed to come to the same conclusion and he turned his scrutiny to the tall, lanky vampire. The feel-good sensation seeped away.

When Edward didn't communicate anything on the matter, I assumed that Sam wasn't upset. Instead, Carlisle spoke again, his tone placating. "My apologies. We did not mean to imply that you are incapable of handling Victoria. We believe that Bella would be safer in our custody not only because we could—with little hassle—have someone accompanying her at all times." He paused, seemingly choosing his next words with care. "Also, we are aware that you have several young members amongst you and understand that the transition can be somewhat…volatile. It would be in Bella's best interest if some distance was maintained. Considering the recent incident, I'm sure that you would agree."

Jacob's body lurched forward as a deafening growl cracked the air like a thunder strike. I looked up, certain the sound had come from him, only to see that he was looking at a smaller, grey wolf farther down the line who was loping towards us, still emitting low rumbles of displeasure.

It was impossible not to recognize her. Not so long ago I had looked into her face and had been absolutely certain of my death. Now I was rather concerned for the safety of the vampires across from us.

Leah shouldered Jacob out of the way, snapping at his face when he growled in annoyance, and came to stand behind me, leaning over my left shoulder to glower at Edward's tense form. His eyes were narrowed—calculating—as he dropped into a crouch with a hiss. "You!"

Simultaneously Alice and I both shouted, "Edward, don't!"

He made it three steps and faltered, barely casting a frustrated glare in Jasper's direction before returning his deadly gaze to Leah, who was now nearly crouched over the top of me. "You should be destroyed for what you did to her," he snarled, attempting to hold onto his rage despite Jasper running emotional interference.

"It was an accident!" I cried, pushing myself forward, so not to be drowned out by Leah's escalating growls.

Edward slowly shook his head, eyes calming ever so slightly as they took in my pleading face. "That doesn't make it right. And it doesn't make you safe."

Swallowing loudly—even to my own human ears—I said, "Accidents can happen anywhere. You should know that."

He flinched as if he'd been struck physically. His face crumpled into remorse and guilt, and my own self-loathing managed to reach new heights.

"It wasn't your fault, Edward," I sighed. I didn't know how else to convey my apology, but I couldn't stand to see him so tortured. "You can't protect me from everything, and"—a deep breath—"it's not your responsibility anymore."

Edward's mouth opened only for no sound to escape before closing in a grim line.

"Edward," Carlisle murmured, and something silent passed between them.

It finished with a stiff nod from Edward, before he gave the pack a sweeping look and sighed. "We're not leaving." His eyes met Sam's. "We are, however willing to suspend certain aspects of the treaty."

None of the Cullens appeared surprised, but the wolves stirred with interest.

Edward continued, "If Bella is going to remain under your protection, then we only ask that she be allowed to remain in Forks, off of the reservation."

I frowned in confusion. Wouldn't the reservation be safer?

"In return we would be willing to permit your presence beyond the treaty line. Such freedom of movement will be necessary if you want any real chance at catching Victoria."

There was a short silence before Edward relayed, "He says they cannot allow us onto their land."

Carlisle was quick to nod in agreement. "We understand. That is why we would like for Bella to spend as much time as possible off the Reservation. We stand a greater chance of catching Victoria if we work in tandem."

I wasn't sure how eager Sam and the rest of the pack were to associate with vampires, even if they were vegetarians. Standing where I was, I could feel the barely-contained aversion emanating from the two groups.

Sam was motionless as he contemplated, perhaps soliciting the thoughts of his brothers, and I itched for Edward's ability to know exactly what was transpiring. When Sam looked from me, to Jasper, and back again, that was one silent request I _could_ interpret and quickly turned my focus inward.

Uncertainty, curiosity, tension, but no pseudo compliance. Jasper wasn't influencing the decision. I signaled as much to Sam with a shake of my head.

"They accept," Edward intoned impassively, his eyes on me. I swallowed and looked away.

* * *

"I'm going to be smelling vampire for days." Leah's nose crinkled in disgust as she riffled loudly through her dresser drawers, grabbing bottles and clothes. She hadn't looked at me since we'd gotten back, pretending to yak when Jacob kissed me goodnight, banging through the front door to the house, thundering up the stairs, and ruthlessly jabbing the plastic air mattress with the pump until it started humming its discontent.

I tiptoed carefully in her wake.

"Bathroom." And she stalked out the door.

Letting out a breath and rubbing at my aching temples, I shook my head to clear it of the oncoming headache. What a day.

But I didn't allow myself to dwell on it, instead reaching for my duffle bag and grabbing the sleeping shorts and oversized t-shirt from inside. I stepped out of my own clothes, but then hesitated when my hands brushed the cotton wrapped around my abdomen.

The material was itchy, and the thought of attempting sleep while wearing it was too unappealing to even consider. So with my back resolutely to the vanity mirror, I bit my lip and started unraveling.

But _not_ looking at what my clumsy hands were doing was impossible. So, it was inevitable that I watched as widening pink lines appeared with every pass of the gauze. Two, and then three, and then four angry marks stretched from below my bust to just past my navel. I turned to face the mirror and stared.

It looked…like a macabre tattoo. The clean lines of the scar were pink ink against my pasty skin, their precision hinting at more of a self-inflicted mutilation than the violent grating of claws. Tracing the marks with shaking hands, I wondered at how they failed to capture the horror of those moments.

I closed my eyes as a shudder prickled my skin at the memory. When I reopened them, they clashed with affected brown eyes in the mirror. Leah stood watching me in the doorway.

Heart in my throat, I snapped into action, reaching for the top I'd laid out on the bed and slipping it over my head before hurrying into the pair of shorts.

I stood still for a moment, lost about what to do with myself.

The mattress wasn't done filling. But Leah was still watching me with eyes that were too penetrating, so I yanked the pump out anyway. Sue had brought up a sheet, blanket, and pillow earlier in the night, and I had them all in order and was lying on my side before I drew my next breath.

"Goodnight," I murmured.

Too many frantic heartbeats later, the room was plunged into darkness, and Leah finally moved to climb into bed. Once the rustling of sheets stilled there was no sound aside from my heavy breathing, and even that eventually evened out to an inaudible whisper.

Eyes drooping and consciousness blurring, I barely registered Leah's profession to the shadows.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

"It is time."

I blinked and looked up from the startling vibrancy of the green grass to only to encounter Felicity's equally stunning profile. "Time for what?"

Her smile was comforting despite the fact that she didn't look up from her task when she replied, "To lose your soul."

Only scattered patches of sunlight sieved through the branches of the sprawling Maple to illuminate her pale arms as they speared, retracted, and twisted. The pile of dirt at my feet continued to steadily grow.

"What are you doing?"

Systematically and without any apparent strain, Felicity enlarged the already sizeable hole in the ground, making it long and deep. At my question she jerked her chin in the direction of a small stone tablet lying on the ground a distance away. I walked over to inspect the engraving.

_Felicity Swan_

_1588-1709_

I looked back at her in confusion. "You're digging your grave?" She continued lifting dirt. "Why?"

"They will not make one for me." She sounded calm and resigned. "We all burn, Bella. But,"—she straightened and brushed a lock of wheat-colored hair from her face—"I want to leave some part of me here. I would like for some part of me to be saved."

From seemingly nowhere, she produced a knife. The instrument was small but appeared incredibly sharp. Queasiness turned my stomach as she dragged the blade across the flesh of her wrist. Blood welled up and spilled into the dirt where she held her hand above the hole.

She stepped back and turned to me with another enchanting smile. "Go on." She gestured to the grave. "Go ahead and lie down, Bella."

* * *

Shaking the memory of the discomforting dream from my mind, I smiled gratefully at Sue as she put the car in park in front of my school. "Thank you. For letting me stay over and for driving me here."

She smiled. "Of course. It was no problem at all."

I was pushing the door open when I was startled by Sue's warm hand squeezing my shoulder.

"Bella, I know that it was a cover story for Charlie, but," she said, leveling me with a sincere stare, "it wasn't just a cover story. Thank you for what you've done for Leah."

I didn't know what to say—her eyes silenced any refutation—so I dipped my head in a nod and left the car.

Alice was standing in front of the doors to building three—where I had my first class—dressed stylishly in snug jeans and an understated floral blouse, and shoes that couldn't have been bought anywhere within an two hour radius of Forks.

She smiled tentatively as I approached.

"Bella." Hearing the familiar lilt of her musical voice was in my dreary school environment made me incredibly nostalgic.

"Good morning, Alice," I greeted, uncertain of how to proceed, given where…things…stood. All I really wanted to do was hug her.

She must have seen my decision and nodded encouragingly, pulling me into a tight embrace. "Oh, I missed you so much. I hated leaving you here."

Because I was now apparently an emotional time bomb, my eyes prickled with tears at her declaration. "Really?"

She scoffed and pulled back far enough to look at me incredulously. "Of course! You're my best friend!" She softened and added, "I should have never let Edward talk me into leaving in the first place. He's an idiot."

"Alice, you don't have to—"

"Yes I do." Her eyes sparked passionately. "He was an idiot when he left, and he's being an even bigger idiot by not telling…" She closed her mouth and gave a stubborn shake of her spiky locks. "Never mind," she sighed. "You won't believe me anyway."

I decided to trust her on that one.

"So," Alice smiled, looping her arm through mine as we went inside and started down the hall of staring faces, "we have a lot of catching up to do. Why don't you sit with us at lunch?"

My next step faltered. Sit across from Edward for 40 minutes? I looked at Alice in disbelief. "I really don't think that would be good. For me."

Alice took my terror in stride. "You're right. We should do something just between us girls. Oh! Come over to the house after school, and you, Rosalie, and I can do manicures and pedicures." Alice looked thrilled at the prospect.

I wasn't as taken, however. Did I want to spend time with Alice? Sure. But I was almost certain that Rosalie wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, and pedicures were basically a legalized form of water boarding and not my idea of a good time. Beyond that, there was a much more pressing reason to decline. "Actually, Alice, Jacob is picking me up after school today. We're studying at my house."

Her face fell, but she was quick to rebound. "Later this week, then."

"Sure, sure."

School that day was much more tolerable than it had been the day before. I did well on a pop quiz in Spanish, I got to talk with Angela while we worked on an in-class Calculus assignment together, Edward didn't stare at me during lunch, Mike was really understanding when I told him that I didn't plan on returning to work at Newton's any time soon, and I realized for the first time that the next day was a "Professional Development Day" for teachers, so there wouldn't be any class.

I wasn't walking on sunshine by any means, but by the time I reached the parking lot that afternoon, I didn't feel like my world was crumbling to pieces.

The sight of Jacob leaning against the side of the Rabbit only buoyed my newfound lightness. I wrapped my arms around his torso and exhaled contentedly into his chest.

He ran his fingers through my hair. "So, how did it go last night after I left? Leah didn't sob on your shoulder while clutching her Care Bear, did she?"

"Only after we stayed up all night watching _The Secret Life of the American Teenager _re-runs."

He chuckled against my temple.

Someone cleared her throat.

I turned, tensed for a verbal confrontation, only to find Angela standing uncertainly beside us with Ben at her back.

"Oh, hey, Angela." I looked up at Jacob. "This is Angela Weber and her boyfriend Ben Cheney. Angela this is—"

"Jacob Black." Jacob stepped forward and used the arm that wasn't anchoring me to his side to shake both Angela and Ben's hands.

Angela looked very impressed, but Ben seemed a little intimidated. "It's great to finally meet you," Angela said kindly.

"Likewise. You're the only person from this place Bella has anything good to say about."

"Jacob!" I hissed, my eyes darting around to make sure no one else was in earshot.

He chuckled. "What? You afraid Mick might overhear?"

"Mike." But my correction was mumbled and half-hearted.

Angela was grinning. "Ben and I were wondering if you two would like to go to Port Angeles with us tonight. Our church is sponsoring this whole youth cosmic bowling event because my dad caught wind of the rumor that Ryan Doubler's hosting a "Smash Bash" tonight, so he decided to launch a counterstrike with trippy lights and free pizza." She looked hopefully between Jacob and me. "It'd be a lot less lame if you guys were there to share a lane with us."

"I…" What should I tell her? _Sorry, but I can't go because there's a bloodthirsty vampire out to get me._

"That actually sounds like fun. What do you think, Bells?"

I blinked owlishly at him. Was he purposely setting it up so that I had to be the bad guy? Unbelievable. "Don't you have school tomorrow?"

His wide shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "Nah. Quileute holiday. Everyone'll be too busy dancing naked around bonfires and making sacrifices to our pagan gods to go to school."

Ben choked on a laugh, causing Jacob to grin.

"Excellent!" Angela pulled a folded flyer out her bag and pressed it into my hands. "This is the address. It starts at nine, but Ben and I have to be there early to help set up. So…we'll see you there?"

I opened my mouth, closed it, and nodded.

Angela beamed and led Ben away with a small wave. "See you later."

I waited until we were in the car before speaking. "Why did you do that?"

He raised an eyebrow at my agitated tone. "What? You don't want to hang out with Angela tonight?"

"No, I do, it just…doesn't seem right. There's a serious danger out there and all of these people are risking their lives for _me._" Jacob started the car and drove toward the exit. "How can I go out and have a good time when…" I gestured vaguely, suddenly too tired to vocalize all of my problems.

In the driver seat, Jacob was quiet for several moments. When he did speak it was to say, "How did you sleep last night?"

I shrugged and chewed at a hangnail. "I had another dream."

"The burning again?"

"No. She was digging a grave. Hers. Or mine. I'm not really sure." Mystery on top of mystery, they kept piling up. My eyes scrunched up as they analyzed the water spots on the window. "Jacob, I feel…"

"What, Honey?" he asked softly.

The right words eluded me. "I feel something. Something's coming. Soon." I sighed. "It's time."

He frowned, and it looked all wrong and out of place.

"Is there really a Quileute holiday tomorrow?" My tactic worked; his lips twitched upward.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," I said stubbornly. "If you have school tomorrow, then you shouldn't go out tonight. You hardly get enough sleep as it is."

"In that case," Jacob said, "yes, there is a holiday. And there will be naked fire dancing if you're interested. And if you ask really nicely and do that pouting thing with your lips, I might even let you have the supreme honor of slaughtering this year's sacrifice: Chicken Little."

"Quil's _cat_?"

Jacob shushed me with a raised finger. "Listen. Oxen and sheep are extremely over done and overrated. I mean, who cares if they have to kill their pet ox? Killing a cat is much more traumatic and emotionally scarring—as any real sacrifice should be. Puppies are preferable, but a cat's a good second. And who knows?" He grinned broadly. "Quil might even cry."

I shook my head in disbelief. How was it he was always able to make me feel better? Always. It really was a wonder.

"I love you."

"Love you too, Bells."

Jacob dropped me off at the house but couldn't stay for our original study date now that we had plans for that evening. "I've gotta go swap shifts. Paul owes me."

I nodded reluctantly but understood. It helped that I got several minutes of goodbye kisses out of it.

Standing in the driveway, watching him drive away, I felt the growing distance as an almost physical pain.

* * *

**AN: **Another lengthy wait for this chapter. My apologies. I'm getting ready to start back to school this weekend, and It will be a six hour car drive. I have to pack EVERYTHING because there's no going back until Thanksgiving. So I've been busy. lol.

In the mean time...who's up for some naked fire dancing? ;)


	21. Kept Promises

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twenty-one – Kept Promises_

* * *

"I can't believe you'd never gone bowling before."

"I can't believe I'd never gone bowling before, and I still outscored you three to one."

"Oh, hush," I muttered, taking advantage of the fact that he was driving by poking him in the ribs. "At least we won."

He chuckled at my feeble efforts and clutched my left hand warmly in his right one. "Yeah, no thanks to you. Well,"—he shot me a thoughtful look—"maybe you did play a small role. I think Angela and Ben might have been so focused on avoiding the destructive path of your arm that they got distracted from the game. You're lucky Ben ducked that one time."

"I was not that bad!" I laughed over my frown. "As if I could even throw the ball high enough for him to have to duck to avoid it."

Despite Jacob's teasing, bowling with Angela and Ben had been a somewhat surprising success. When Jacob had first agreed to the whole outing, I had been sure it would be a complete bust, certain that I wouldn't be able to put aside Victoria's shadow long enough to enjoy myself. I had been wrong. Somewhere amongst the hideous shoes, glowing bowling balls, and mundane whining about classes, I had succumbed to the enticement of normalcy.

"He was diving for the helpless two-year-old, Bells!"

"Well," I huffed defensively, trying to assuage my own guilt, "the boy's parents shouldn't have let him wander off like that. And it was really dark in there!"

Jacob snorted.

"Really, really dark."

"Sure, sure. Super dark. It's amazing toddlers aren't crushed by 8 pound bowling balls on a regular basis." I couldn't really mind his sarcasm when he was smiling like that, so I grinned and shook my head. "Hey, do you mind if we swing by my place before heading back? I need to change clothes."

I glanced at the Rabbit's glowing clock—_12:20_—and nodded. I had called Charlie before we'd left Port Angeles, so he would be in bed already and wouldn't know if we were late. I knew Jacob had to patrol tonight, and he wanted to get out of his long jeans and button-down shirt so they wouldn't be a hassle to carry.

"You look really nice." It was rare that I got to see Jacob in anything aside from his standard cutoff jeans and occasional worn t-shirt. I never really cared what he wore, but that night he looked extra dashing. And more than a little irresistible.

Better at receiving compliments than I was, Jacob sort of smiled and risked looking away from the road long enough to give me an appraising once-over. "Not as nice as you."

Predictably, I blushed hotly. But I didn't look away.

"Your hair. You did something to it."

Absently I fingered a voluminous mahogany curl. "Leah curled it for me."

"Leah did your hair?" He sounded astonished. "And she didn't try to maim you with the iron?"

"No. She was outside patrolling when she heard me…struggling." Unsurprisingly I was not adept at wielding a curling iron. "It was really kind of her to offer to help."

"Hence the shock."

I didn't want to argue about Leah. "Just don't think about it when you phase. I told her I wouldn't tell anyone."

"The next time I want to tell you a secret, remind me not to. Cite this occasion."

I rolled my eyes. "Telling you doesn't count as telling someone."

He clutched his chest, looking wounded. "Cuz I'm a 'nobody'?"

"No." I thought about how to explain it. But I didn't know how to put in a way that didn't sound silly. Telling him something was the equivalent to scrawling it in a journal or contemplating it while lying in bed at the end of the day. He was an extension of me, entitled to all of the menial details and soul-baring secrets. "It just doesn't count."

Jacob put the car in park and got out, as I squinted into the darkness and barely made out the outline of the small, red house.

"Does this mean there are things you don't tell me?" I asked as he opened my door and took my hand. I snaked my arms around his waist as we headed inside, huddling into his warmth. The softness of his nice shirt felt wonderful against my cheek.

"Of course." Jacob flipped on the light in the living room before leading us into the kitchen and hitting the switch there as well.

I had to blink my eyes to adjust to the brightness. "Isn't Billy sleeping?" I whispered against his chest.

"The man sleeps like the dead." Jacob chuckled. "Not that the dead sleep, apparently." He released me with a gentle squeeze before stepping over to the refrigerator and retrieving a gallon of grape juice and acquiring a cup from the overhead cupboard. He filled the glass and handed it to me. "I'll be right back. Don't play with the carving knives."

I eagerly sipped on the juice and then—when I couldn't contain myself any longer—whispered after him, "What things don't you tell me?"

He continued on to his room with a vague wave of his hand. "Lots of things."

I scowled at his retreating back. The _one_ time he decided to be mysterious. I was still frowning into my half-empty glass when Jacob returned sans shirt and a worn pair of cutoffs slung low on his hips. It was no small effort to force my eyes away from the tiny sliver of slightly paler skin peaking out over the top of the denim.

"Uh…wh-what sorts of things don't you tell me?" I cleared my throat and met his eyes, which at that moment were fixed raptly on the subtle trembling of my lower lip. When Jacob looked at me that way—like he was resisting the urge to pull me to him and slowly devour me in the most gratifying of ways, the gap between my brain and body tended to widen and stretch to immeasurable lengths. My brain knew that it was impossible to actually _fall_ into someone's eyes, but standing in a silent, dimly lit kitchen where Jacob's dark irises melted into the blackness of his pupils as he stared down at me, my body begged to differ. I teetered precariously on the edge.

Jacob stepped forward and I resisted the self-preserving urge to move back, allowing his almost overwhelming presence to wash over me as he took the cup from the vice of my clammy hands and set it in the sink behind me.

"I wasn't done with that," I murmured, suddenly breathless and very, very hot.

"Yes you were."

I was.

He moved closer again, and this time I had no choice but to move back or risk stumbling over when his chest pushed unyieldingly against my shoulders. One and a half paces and I was pinned between the refrigerator and a furnace. A furnace with soft skin and incredibly dark eyes…

His proximity was doing funny things to the synapses of my brain, and my mouth was no longer under my control when it opened and stuttered out, "What…what sorts of thin-things?"

The touch of his rough fingers against my cheek was familiar and inviting. I pressed my face into his palm.

"Things"—he brushed a curl behind my ear—"that would make you blush."

So, of course, I did. But the pink coloring of my cheeks was nothing compared to the heat of his breath along my temple as he lowered his head.

"Like…" I prodded mercilessly into the closing distance between us. Space was becoming scarce, filled to the brim with Jacob and the anticipation humming unnervingly along my skin.

"Like…I think you're beautiful, Bells." A butterfly kiss was dropped on the corner of my eye. "More beautiful than anything."

The stutter-step of my heart was audible. "More beautiful than even…um…"—I racked my suddenly sluggish brain—"Heidi Klum?"

His lips parted in a smile against the shell of my ear. "Blonde. Yuck."

My hands crept from their place at my side to his naked waist, pressing my thumbs to the smooth indentations above his jeans. "What about…Megan Fox? She's a brunette and, according to Embry, puts the 'hot' in 'hot bitch'."

Jacob snorted quietly. "That's only because they both have scarily-sized foreheads."

I bit my lip to keep from snickering and was glad to find a distraction in Jacob placing open-mouthed kisses down the side of my neck. I hummed in appreciation.

As I pressed our bodies closer, a bead of sweat trailed down from my hairline. Jacob slowly licked it up. "I'm hot."

"That's what I was trying to tell you."

"No, I'm actually _hot_." I could feel the flush in my cheeks and the dampness at the back of my neck. Jacob's physical presence burned me both inside and out, and the long-sleeved shirt I was wearing certainly wasn't helping matters…

The memory of a very specific time in my bedroom swam to the surface, and I smiled devilishly. Reaching for the bottom of my t-shirt, I began to tug it up, only to abruptly stop as I remembered.

The scars.

"Bella?" When I went rigid, Jacob pulled away so he could see my face, but I dodged his questioning eyes. "Hey," he said softly, "what's wr—"

And I knew he understood.

"Bells…"

But I didn't want to hear it, and I shook my head while trying to will away the building tears. "I'm not, Jacob. You're wrong. I'm not beautiful."

There were several second of heavy silence, and then Jacob was prying my fists from the edges of the shirt and taking it in his own hands as he pulled it up over my head. My arms rose limply without resistance.

He tossed the shirt—still inside-out—onto a kitchen chair before turning back to me. I felt small and painfully self-conscious as he scrutinized me from head to toe, not lingering on the violent splash of pink skin across my abdomen any longer than he did the curve of my shoulder or the length of my jean-covered thigh.

He stepped close again and took my hips between his hands as he rested his forehead against mine. "Still more beautiful than Megan Fox."

I chuckled darkly through my tears and sniffles. "You're a really good liar. I appreciate that."

He sighed. "Not convinced, huh?"

He dropped to his knees on the linoleum kitchen floor.

My eyes widened. "Jake. What are you—"

"Shut up, Bells."

His firm hold put an end to my squirming and I leaned back against the refrigerator, resigned.

The heat of his lips against my navel turned my skin to gooseflesh. I shivered.

"_Is this where it hurts?"_

I nodded to the phantom voice, closed my eyes, and recalled that unassuming afternoon when we'd both made seemingly hopeless promises. Promises to understand, promises to _try_. And somewhere—somewhere amongst the first kisses, learned laughter, and easy afternoons—trying had become needing, had become effortless to the point where giving Jacob everything I had left was no longer a decision. I couldn't choose to love Jacob anymore than I could choose to take in my next breath or choose to feel the warmth of the sun when it touched my skin.

I thought of our kept promises and wanted to cry in relief.

Instead I buried my hands in Jacob's hair, running my fingers along his scalp as he revoked my scars with restorative kisses and passes of his nose.

I thought of our kept promises and realized there was more I was willing—_wanting_—to give. There was more that I wanted from him.

"Jacob."

He paused and pressed his cheek to my belly as he look up at me with half-lidded eyes.

I traced his jaw with my thumb. "Make love to me?"

The barely whispered words were nearly lost in the low rumblings of the refrigerator at my back and the suddenly conspicuous drone of rain against the small kitchen window above the sink. The whir of the feeble bulb inside the light fixture hanging from the ceiling was a scream in my ear as the silence condensed into an intangible weight against my chest, crushing my ribs from above while my heart thrashed demandingly against them from beneath.

He didn't respond, only stared mutely at me. But the hammering beat against my chest was the only betrayal of my anxiety. Air continued to leave and enter my lungs in deep, even breaths. My fingers tugged gently at his exposed ear.

I waited. I waited, and it was with the eagerness of watching the sky purpling at dawn, the expectation of the first fingers of light to stretch from the horizon. It was with the certainty that the sun would rise and when it did, it would be magnificent and worth the sacrifice of sleep and effort it took to find the perfect break in the tree line so that it was framed just the right way.

And so I waited.

"When?"

The wide smile on my face had to be absurd. Bending down I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and pressed my face to the warmth of his neck, inhaling deeply. "Now."

I dropped a grateful kiss on his russet skin before standing and attempting to pull him up after me.

He resisted, catching my chin in his free hand and catching my gaze with those dark eyes. "Are you sure?" And he wasn't asking just to ask.

Gently I slipped from his hold. "Come on." I smiled reassuringly and started stepping backwards toward his room. My lips twitched coyly. "Show me how badly you hope I choke."

I turned and didn't have to hear his footsteps to know he was following me into the dark.

* * *

"Mmmmm."

Blinking away the stubborn remnants of sleep, I moaned and rolled away from the overcast light trickling in from the window to bury my head in the familiarity of my lilac pillow. But as I moved to curl my legs up toward my chest, my muscles protested the effort. Frowning, I shifted my legs again, willing the dull ache away. Ugh. Of course I'd be getting cramps when I wasn't even…

My eyes snapped open, and I shot up so fast my vision swam. A quick appraisal of the room confirmed that it was in fact mine. My window, my desk, my old, crotchety computer, my bed. Bed. Jacob's bed. Last night. Last night on Jacob's bed.

For five seconds I wondered if I had dreamed it. Maybe Jacob had driven me straight home after bowling, and I'd just had an _extremely_ vivid dream about me, and Jacob and his bed. That was a completely normal thing for hormonal teenage girls to do, right?

But then I flexed my legs and knew. And I'd never been happier to be in pain.

Hurtling to my feet, I stumbled out of my bedroom door and across the hall into the bathroom, where I shoved that door closed and flipped the lock before practically lunging to the counter to scrutinize my reflection.

I looked like I had had sex.

My hair no longer held the voluminous curls Leah had effortlessly coaxed from my brown locks the previous evening. Instead it more closely resembled a mass of straw and dried mud stuck to the top of my head.

_I tangled my hands through my hair, fighting off the scream that was whimpering for release in the back of my throat. _

My eyes were too wide. Even when I squinted, they just snapped back open the moment I relaxed.

"_Look at me, honey. Open your eyes so I can see you."_

A healthy blush colored my skin, the rosiness of my cheeks standing out against my pale face.

_His fingers skated my skin, unhindered by cotton or indecision as they detailed every rise and fall of my body. His nails scratched lightly at my hipbones. "Your chest blushes."_

A conspicuous red and purple mark at the base of my neck ached pleasantly when I pressed a finger to it.

"_Jacob!" I hissed, gasping as his teeth nipped harder than before._

"_Yeah?" He soothed the ravaged flesh with a sweep of his tongue._

I traced the matching mark on the other side.

"_Do that again."_

Then there was the frightening state of my lips. Raw, chapped, swollen, and slightly bruised.

"_Jake. Jake. Jake." I gasped, bit my lip, and tasted copper on my tongue. Jacob swooped down and stole the rest of his names from every corner of my mouth._

And—I attempted to drag down the corners with my fingers—my lips wouldn't stop smiling. It was like they were stuck that way, my teeth shining brightly through.

_Wonderfully slowly my heart calmed and my panting slowed so that I was able to focus solely on Jacob as he fell to his back beside me. A beautiful, satisfied smile turned up one side of his lips, and I immediately dubbed it his "crooked sex smile."_

I grinned ridiculously into the mirror for several moments. Wondering at how perfectly obvious it all was.

And then my smile slowly fell away because it was _perfectly obvious_. The butterflies in my stomach abruptly turned to rocks.

Oh, God. Charlie was going to know. He was going to take one look at me and _know_. And Jacob was going to get shot. My anxiety skyrocketed.

Forcing myself to take a composed breath, I tried to think logically. It was Thursday. Charlie wasn't home; he'd be at work until five. That left me plenty of time to…destroy the evidence.

This was reason enough for me to perk back up. What I needed was a shower. A nice, long shower to relax and pull myself together.

Feeling slightly more optimistic about my deception capabilities and concurrently Jacob's chances of survival, I walked to the tub and got the water to start warming. I pulling off the t-shirt I'd pilfered from Jacob's room the night before and turned to hang it on the back of the door, when my reflection once again caught my undivided attention.

"What the…"

There on my shoulder. There was something on my shoulder. A big black glob.

I frowned and angled my head to peer down at the mysterious stain. It looked like…ink. Frowning, I rubbed at it with my hand, but to no avail. It wouldn't come off.

My breath hitched, and I tried to fight down the panic invading the nerves of my body. In an attempt to get a better look, I leaned over the sink toward the mirror, pulling down my obstructing bra strap.

It wasn't a shapeless blob. It was a hand, a solid black handprint that had to belong to a man; it enveloped my entire left shoulder.

My own hand started to shake as I scrambled to pull a washcloth from the cabinet and dampen it beneath the faucet. I rubbed and rubbed at the ink, feeling tears of frustration burn my eyes when I only managed to scrub my skin raw.

"No. No. No."

Letting out an alarmed cry I threw the washcloth down into the sink

"No! This…this can't just…" Something vague was whispering at the back of mind, ordering me to understand, to see.

My breaths turned shallow as the shaking spread from my hands to the rest of my body. I retreated back against the bathroom door.

"Bella?"

I jumped, every hair on my body standing on end in response to the person on the other side of the door.

"It's Emmett. Are you okay in there?"

"I…I…" I couldn't find the air to speak.

There was a quiet snap as the lock broke and the door was pushed open to reveal Emmett's towering form. I instinctively shrunk away.

"Whoa!" His eyes widened. "You're not dressed. Give a man some warning could ya?" He began swiftly retreating through the door when his gaze fell on my exposed shoulder. It caused him to pause. "Hey, cool tattoo! I bet that'd make Edward totally flip. In a good way if you know what I mean."

The suggestive look he shot me quickly dissipated into concern when he noticed the look of utter terror on my face.

"You alright?"

I didn't get the chance to prove that I couldn't even respond. Another miffed voice sounded from the hallway.

"What the hell are _you_ doing in here? Bella?"

Embry. Relief washed over me in cool, invigorating waves. Embry would help me.

"Em-Embry," I managed to gasp out. The edges of my vision were going black.

There was a curse followed by a loud thud, and then Embry replaced Emmett in the doorway. He looked down at my shaking hands clutching Jacob's shirt to my chest and scowled. In a dizzying blink he was stepping back out into the hallway. "What did you _do_ to her?"

I'd never heard Embry sound so angry or so hateful, and I stumbled forward to soothe him. "No. It's not—"

"Look, kid, I didn't _do_ anything," Emmett said dismissively. "You guys were the ones who had her on the Rez last night against the agreement. I just heard her freaking out a minute ago and was just checking to make sure she wasn't passed out in a pool of vomit or something."

The urge to heave the contents of my stomach was suddenly _very_ strong.

"Yeah, because who knows what kind of trouble she could be getting into while undressing for a shower," Embry growled. He was starting to tremble.

I shook my head in denial. "No—"

Emmett's eyes narrowed, clearly picking up on Embry's slipping control. "I think you should go outside before you finish what your little girl started."

A less than human growl erupted from Embry's clenched teeth, and Emmett reached out and yanked me behind him.

My vision spun, and as Embry shot forward, everything went black.

I pitched backward, landing roughly on the ground. Once I'd managed to blink the darkness away, I looked up, ready to see Embry and Emmett going at each other's throats…only to find myself completely alone. And surrounded by trees.

I was dreaming. I'd passed out and now I was dreaming.

But seconds continued to unfold and the only thing that changed was the amount of green light reaching past the canopy of branches. Felicity didn't show up.

A shiver jarred my spine and I realized how cold I was. I looked down to find that my hands were still clutching Jacob's shirt to my nearly naked chest, and I was sitting halfway in a small stream, the majority of sweats complete soaked through.

Forcing myself into action, I pulled on the t-shirt and stood on shaky legs.

But as I turned to take in the surrounding forest, hoping against hope to find _anything _familiar orrecognizable, my eyes encountered something that decidedly didn't belong to the crude, natural landscape: a blond boy about my age, standing ten feet away and staring at me with intent, scarlet eyes.

* * *

**AN:** So, who knows who the guest is? And did anyone get the strange feeling that they'd seen that hand before? Hmmm.

My apologies to those thoroughly dismayed with the fade to black and complete lack of hot refrigerator sex (oxymoron much?). Sex scenes aren't my forte, and it really wouldn't have flowed with the story, in my opinion. You probably disagree. ;)


	22. Ashes to Ashes

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twenty-two – Ashes to Ashes_

* * *

I immediately stepped backward, the cold water of the stream sloshing at my bare feet.

The vampire didn't move.

"Who are you?" The composure in my voice was delicate, and if I hadn't had such extensive experience in confronting vampires who wanted to rip the flesh from my bones, I would have been a quivering mess. As it was, I gritted my teeth and forced away any manifestation of the chills relentlessly racking my body.

"It's you." Still unnervingly motionless, his lips hardly twitched over the syllables.

I glanced around at our surroundings, and his narrowed eyes followed my every shift of weight and rise of my chest. Calculating.

"I'm sorry. I don't know you." Could he be a friend of the Cullens? Edward had mentioned them having non-vegetarian friends. But the thought was not as reassuring as it might have once been. I thought of Laurent and shuddered.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I silently begged for all this to be a dream, for Felicity to appear with her soothing smile and dissident words that were always the prelude to my waking up.

But my wishing was in vein, and when I re-opened my eyes, it was to find that the vampire had closed the short distance between us and was now standing only an arm's length away. I gasped.

Red irises bore into me unblinkingly. "I've seen your picture." His voice was sweet, melodic, deceptive. "Victoria's told me all about you."

Victoria.

My stomach dropped to my feet. Not a friend of the Cullens then. And the possibility of this being a dream slipped like water through my fingers.

"W-what has she told you about me?"

Stall. I needed to stall. So, fighting my instincts to stand still and not move too suddenly I began taking blind step backwards into the water until I was knee-deep and then continued moving until I reached the other side.

He watched me go but didn't pursue. Because, of course, he didn't need to.

"It doesn't matter," he nearly spat, and I wondered if he was answering my question or pointing out the uselessness of my evasive maneuver. "She'll want you alive."

The déjà vu was astounding—I could almost _smell_ the faintly sweet aroma of the damp meadow.

I licked my lips and put on my poker face. "You should leave before the Cullens get here. And…and there are wolves in the woods…" I was desperately grasping at anything I could get my mind around, because I refused to let the inevitable come to pass—the inevitable that resulted in me being dead and in Jacob and Charlie hurting.

The smile that quirked the vampire's lips was predatory, held all the smugness of a lion who'd stumbled across a loan lamb. "They won't be a problem. They're distracted, you see." Physically he hadn't moved, but I felt as if he were somehow closing in on me, toying with me in his approach. "To think I was sent for a shirt, and I'll return with the entire package." The excitement he felt was betrayed by the restlessness of his hands as they twitched at his sides. "Victoria will be pleased. I wonder how she'll reward me." His eyes roved over me hungrily, and there was nothing I could do to suppress the shudder that shook me head to toe.

Running was useless. It would only entice him. But standing there waiting to be eaten wasn't exactly preferable. Should I scream? Would someone hear me? What did he mean they were "distracted?" Was it Victoria? A fight?"

A cold hand cupped my cheek. In the space of a second, the vampire had once again maneuvered in front of me, this time close enough so that his sweet breath brushed my face. Nausea gripped me.

"She told me all about you. But she never said anything about how delicious you smell." Wide, crimson eyes gazed longingly along my neck, zeroing in on one of the bruised bite marks Jacob had left the night before.

I held myself perfectly still, not even daring to breathe.

"She would be upset if I killed you now." He was trying to convince himself. It was plain in the consoling timbre of his voice and the increased trembling of his fingers as he angled my head to one side. Stone lips grazed my jaw.

"Please," I wheezed. Pressure started building behind my eyes.

"It's strange. I fed only hours ago," he continued on to himself. "But the _smell_…"

The cool friction of his nose running along the column of my throat was a sickening mockery of the way Jacob had touched me only hours ago, and I wanted to go back. I wanted to go back there to that moment and recommit the sensation to memory. Last night I hadn't been trying to _remember_.

"It's like I can already taste it." The flat of his tongue found the vigorous pounding of my artery.

"Don't—" My voice died into a pained moan as teeth slipped past skin, and I could tell the moment my blood began to well; the copper scent instantly soaked the air.

My hands uselessly pushed at his chest as I writhed against his marble body which was clamped like a vice around me. One unshakable hand held my face immobile while the other secured my arm to my side. As I fought, his only response was to painfully tighten his hold.

I gritted my teeth against the pulsing agony stemming from where he was furiously sucking at my neck. Pinpricks of blackness began taking over my vision. My fingers went numb.

Then, without notice, the coldness against my body disappeared, and with it went the only thing keeping me standing. I wavered on my feet and crumpled.

Animalistic whining and gagging coughs rang painfully out against the comparative silence of the forest. And when I managed to gather enough composure to lift my head from the cool, moist ground it was to witness a disturbing scene.

Kneeling just a short distance from where I had collapsed was the vampire, face shoved to the ground as he convulsed, alarming, high-pitched screeches of distress pouring from his lips alongside escaping dribbles of my blood. One hand emphatically clawed at the forest floor, tilling the dirt and moss to powder as the other grasped at his neck. Over and over, he slammed himself into the ground with mounting force and violence until he was a mere blur of motion. The sound rang out like thunder.

And just as abruptly he froze mid lift amongst a cloud of dust.

He looked up, and gone was the face of the looming predator. Arrogance and desire had been replaced by panic and frenzy. He looked like a frightened boy. "Y-you…" he choked, and his face went slack.

I watched in morbid fascination as a fine jagged fissure appeared above his left temple. I watched as it grew and traveled down toward his eye. I watched as it multiplied until there were two, three, four…a dozen fissures that splintered over his flesh like fingers across a sheet of ice…or a stone statue.

And the cracks continued to spread. Down his neck, beneath the collar of his shirt, over his exposed forearms. When it reached his fingers, the digits fell like rocks to the dirt where they crumpled into ash like the mauled ground.

I watched as the rest of his body soundlessly followed suit, as piece by piece he degraded into…

A pile. He was a pile of…

Bile burned the back of my throat, and I refused to look any closer to discern just _what_ exactly composed the grayish heap of matter sitting where—ten seconds ago—a vampire had been. And the throbbing of my neck was demanding my full attention.

Tentatively I raised a hand to the wound only to pull my fingers away covered in blood. I just barely managed to shove the hair from my face before leaning to the side and retching.

Shivering and sputtering I rolled away from my mess, gasping for air and some semblance of clarity. But my mind demanded that I not hesitate.

_Get up. Get up. Get up._

I staggered to my feet, not stopping to question why my neck had yet to start burning, why I wasn't thrashing uselessly on the ground as venom coursed through my veins, hollowing and petrifying my insides. I focused solely on picking one foot up, moving it forward, and placing it back down. One. Two. And Three.

_One…two…three._

_One. Two. Three._

_One, two, three._

_Onetwothree. Onetwothree. Onetwothree. Onetwothree._

_…_

My vision came and went, but the mantra in my mind was a constant as my bare feet pounded in tandem across the ground, carrying me…somewhere. I was running for home—that's where I was trying to get—and I ignored the whispering voice of reason that told me I wasn't really going anywhere at all. I was just _going_.

_—_

My feet stopped.

Something icy and intangible washed over me, dousing the shock and any ability I had to tune out everything but the _onetwothree_ beating against my head. It was impossible _not _to see him standing ten yards away. Pristine. Perfect. Safe.

And there was something inside me that recognized him before my eyes did.

"Edward," I murmured taking a step toward him, arms outstretched, eager for something more concrete than the panicked haze I was trapped in, the pile of ash I'd run from, and the mark scorched on my shoulder.

But I watched as relieved golden eyes turned wide with alarm, as a foot froze in mid-lift, as the rise in fall of his chest halted.

My snap back to reality was abrupt and painful.

Blood. My blood.

I clapped my hand to the wound and slowly retreated backward, very much aware that my shirt, hands, and hair were all stained crimson and that nothing I could do would mask the potent smell. On more than one occasion Edward had explained to me that it was easier to resist the lure of my scent if he didn't go long periods without being near me. Standing there, painted in blood, I wondered what a six-month absence had done to his control.

"Edward," I cautioned, clinging to fact that at least _this_ was something I understood how to react to, "just stay there. I'll…I'll leave. Slowly."

I was shocked to see his face relax into a calm mask. Only his shoulders remained tense. "No. I'm fine."

"Edward, please…"

"No," he said again, still not breathing, "It's alright. Please, Bella, you're hurt. We need to get you to a hospital."

"I can't…" Tears appeared out of nowhere to slide down my face. "You can't take me to the hospital, Edward." He was out of air—I knew it—and he wouldn't risk another breath. "Because I'm not just hurt. I...there was a vampire and he…"

Edward was at my side in a blurred movement that was so sudden and so akin to my attacker's that I flinched away. But he was quick to secure a hand around my arm and hold me still as he scrutinized the bite on my neck.

"How does it feel?" he murmured, voice low and thick with agony. I hated that he was in pain because of me, because of his proximity to my scent.

Had it been this painful for him every time we were together?

"Bella?"

The cool brush of soothing fingers over my temple drew my eyes to his. The tortured concern I found there prompted me to finally respond. "It hurts. But it's not _burning_. Not like…before, when James..."

After only a moment of regarding me intently, Edward swept me up in his arms and started running. My bloody wound was pressed firmly against his chest, but I didn't have the energy to argue over what the contact must be costing him. Now that I no longer had to focus on moving and making sure my feet didn't stop, there was no incentive to ignore the insistent pull of darkness that had been tugging relentlessly at me since the vampire had crumbled to dust at my feet.

I let my eyes droop. The next breath I took brought me a lung-full of Edward's scent, the clean, intoxicating aroma that, at one point, had been more familiar and comforting to me than any scent in the world. Curling one hand in the collar of shirt, I let myself fall away.

It was helplessly ingrained in me; Edward would keep me safe.

* * *

"You have had quite the first day."

I blinked and immediately honed in on the woman sitting in a simple, white, wooden chair— identical to the one I was suddenly occupying.

Felicity.

"I'm dreaming."

She smiled her lovely smile at me, looking natural and stunning with her quaint green garden acting as a rustic backdrop. "Yes. Is dreaming not a wonderful thing?"

I frowned. "Then…what happened in the forest was real?" Was I still bleeding to death in Edward's arms?

"As I said,"—she paused to take a drink from a crude-looking metal cup held lightly between her hands—"you have had quite the first day. I did not encounter my first vampire until six months after I woke up." Now her smile hinted at a secret. "But you are not much like me, are you?"

As always it was impossible not to feel at peace in her presence, and I found myself relaxing back into my seat as everything else but the two of us became inexplicably inconsequential. I met her gaze frankly. "I don't know. Who are you?"

Felicity set her cup on a small table that matched the chairs. The movement was as fluid and organic as the warm sunlight shinning down on us. "I am your great, great, great grandmother."

I felt my eyebrows shoot up. Her confession was surprising but not alarming. The idea of being related to this strong, mysterious woman wrapped me in a blanket of comfort. It was like getting good news confirmed that I'd been suspecting for weeks.

"But that is not what's important," she continued with a graceful wave of her hand. "I am the past. You, my child, are the present and, hopefully, the future."

"The future?"

She nodded indulgently. "I am afraid I am getting ahead of myself. Some things are better left to be discovered in the waking world, where words and feeling are something beyond echoes and shadows." She turned her eyes toward a beautiful flowered vine wrapped lovingly around one of the table legs. As she gently fingered the petals, her voice became nostalgic. "Dreams are so easily dismissed, are we not?"

I said nothing.

She didn't lift her eyes from the deep purple buds. "Isabella, your life is about to get very difficult. There is nothing I can say to change that or to take the pain away, and for that I am deeply regretful. But, perhaps, I can help prepare you for what is to come."

Any serenity I'd felt was slipping away at her ominous sincerity. "You can see the future?" Maybe her gift was like Alice, and there was still time to change things.

"Not at all,"—she raised her head from the flower to look at me once again—"I do not see the future, only the past and the choices that were made. In that respect, at least, I am no different than any other living soul."

Her words struck a chord of familiarity. "What did you mean in the last dream? When you said I would lose my soul?" I swallowed thickly, recalling the reality I had only temporarily left behind. "I'm going to become a vampire, aren't I? You knew that that vampire would find me in the woods."

Felicity leaned back in her seat, eyeing me intently with mild pity. "I already told you I do not see the future."

"Then how—"

"Your soul is no longer your own," she cut in gently, her face sober. "He took it. With the touch of His hand." She dipped her head in indication of my shoulder.

I looked down. Jacob's ruined t-shirt was gone, replaced with a pale, strapless, cotton dress. The black hand stood out prominently against my skin. I gasped.

"Yes," Felicity murmured. "Even in your dreams His reach is inescapable." She pushed aside the collar of her own dress, revealing a matching mark, dark and bold and undeniable.

"What is it?" I asked quietly. My fingertips trembled as they traced the eerie pattern.

"The Devil's mark."

My eyes snapped up to meet hers.

There was a stubborn tilt to her chin, a resistant narrowing of her eyes—it was the same determination she had displayed while burning at the stake. "It is your toll for the boatman. The one thing that guarantees your place in Hell."

The nearby chirping of birds filled the silence that fell between us, cheerfully pecking at my nerves as I considered her words and the frightening sincerity that accompanied them.

Felicity leaned forward and regarded me earnestly as she took my hand in her own. "Isabella, you must understand that this is not something to be shared. You have secrets now, but they are not your own. It is not about trusting, it's about protecting."

I gently squeezed her hands in frustration. "But I don't know _anything_. You haven't explained _anything_."

"It is not my place." She gave a small smile that effectively soothed my ruffled feathers. "Dreams are only echoes and shadows. Isabella, you have to protect us. Understanding will come, but until then…"

"This is a secret," I finished quietly.

Her smile was more revealing than any single word she'd spoken. "Yes."

* * *

I anticipated the opening of my eyes. I was so acutely aware of when I was making the transition from the dream world to the waking world, that I noticed the dimming of my surroundings and the slow fade of the surreal green garden and striking brown eyes.

"It's about fucking time."

Standing over by the door, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall and nose scrunched in distaste, was Leah. And she looked annoyed.

I took in a breath of relief.

"Where are we?" I murmured, rubbing at my eyes as I took in our surrounding. I didn't recognize the room. The walls were painted a rich champagne color, trimmed in rose. Of the three doors that line the walls, one was cracked open and seemed to lead out to a hallway. The bed I was lying on was firm, and I was neatly tucked beneath a fluffy down blanket and sheets that matched the rose trim on the walls. A huge bureau and desk occupied the majority of the remaining space, only leaving room for an overstuffed chair set beside the single window.

Edward was sitting there, expression masked as he watched me with neutral eyes. "This is Alice and Jasper's room."

And it clicked. He'd brought me to the Cullen's house—and presumably to Carlisle—because of the…

I reached a hand up to my neck and felt a square of stiff cotton covering the wound. Sitting up, I looked at Edward in alarm. "How am I…?"

His expression darkened. "We aren't sure."

When he didn't elaborate, I turned to Leah. She just raised and dropped her shoulders in a careless shrug. "Is it really a surprise that you can't even die properly when a vampire gnaws your neck halfway off?"

I felt my eyebrows crinkle together. Edward's warning hiss barely even registered. "How many stitches?"

"Sixteen," Edward answered for her. "Carlisle took them out an hour ago."

"Out?" I echoed.

Edward nodded curtly.

"That's some weird healing shit, Swan." Leah shook her head, looking slightly amused but mostly disgusted. "And I'm gonna be pissed if you get the fringe benefits without turning into a giant dog."

My eyes widened at the prospect.

"You aren't currently running a temperature," Edward reassured me quietly. And even though I hadn't considered it a likely possibility, I relaxed minutely anyway.

"And you're sure I'm not going to…"—I bit my lip and picked nervously at the seam of the comforter in my lap when I couldn't meet his steady gaze—"…turn into a vampire?"

"Well you certainly don't reek like one," Leah mumbled, shifting her weight restlessly from one foot to the other.

"I does seem…unlikely at this point," Edward agreed hesitantly.

"But…" I pressed, and almost regretted it when his eyes relentlessly pierced me. The opaque gold searched my dull brown for answers, challenging me to reveal _something_. Intellectually I knew he couldn't read my mind, and that he'd always struggled to comprehend my thoughts in even the most human of ways. But the intensity of feeling he was forcing on me now had me wondering. Did he see what I wasn't saying?

Uncertain but unwilling to give in, I simply stared back. Even Leah's uncomfortable coughs couldn't dislodge the connection.

It wasn't until I began feeling lightheaded from the effort that he finally released me, looking morosely to the floor. "Breathe, Bella," he ordered quietly.

So I did. Gratefully.

By the door Leah rolled her eyes and pushed off the wall. "I'm gonna tell Jacob that you're awake."

"He's here?" I asked hopefully, impatient to see him.

"Nah, Sam made him go for a run ten minutes ago when he started barking and sprouting hair from his ears. But he'll throw a bitch fit if he finds I out I didn't tell him you were up. He was practically blubbering over your casket earlier."

I winced and couldn't contain my disappointment as I found myself desperately craving his presence. More than anything I wanted him to hold me, kiss my hair, and tell me it would be all right.

Leah sighed. "Look, it's not like Sam exactly gave him a choice. You'd been out for nine hours, and Sam and Embry forced him to take a break before he could start pissing on you. I can _still_ smell the testosterone." She shot Edward a dirty look. He didn't notice.

"But you got to stay?" And I didn't care that it sounded like I was whining. I wanted Jake.

Leah gestured to Edward with her middle finger. "One-to-one. That was the agreement. Pixie Stick, Dr. 90210, and Mother Theresa left when the others did. I volunteered to stay behind with Debbie Downer." She smirked at Edward's down-turned face ferociously.

"So Embry's okay, then? He and Emmett didn't—"

"Embry is a fucktard. And so is that big guy he was measuring his dick against. Useless morons took forever to notice you were gone."

That…was not something I wanted to discuss. And I really needed for her to get Jacob. "Thanks, Leah."

"Just don't disappear to fucking Antarctica while I'm gone. I'm not wading through six feet of snow for your sorry ass." She waved her hand over her shoulder as she left the room.

And then I was alone with Edward, who was still staring vacantly at the plush white carpet.

Shifting to a more comfortable position against the headboard, I crossed my legs beneath me and tried not to think about how much this situation reminded me of my stay in the Phoenix hospital after my encounter with James. Yet again, I had found myself at the mercy of a blood-thirsty vampire, and, yet again, Edward had come to my rescue. The scale between us continued tip precariously in his favor. Unsurprisingly, I was found wanting.

"Thank you, Edward." I cleared my throat uneasily. "For finding me." He didn't look up, and I ran a frazzled hand through my hair. My fingers caught on clumps of dried blood. "I mean, if I hadn't run into you, I may have—"

"Died," he finished stonily.

The story of my life.

"You should be dead," he continued chillingly, and the arm of his chair groaned as his hand strangled it. "With the amount of blood you lost, you should be dead."

His body had begun to tremble, and it took every last bit of my self control to stay seated and not got to him and offer comfort. _He doesn't want you._

"While I was carrying you here, I thought that you weren't going to make it, that you were going to die there against my shoulder." His shaking ceased, and he slumped forward, cradling his head in his hands. "I thought that you were going to die or that you'd…"

"Edward." The soft material of the blanket crinkled in my clench fists. "If I _had_ died, it wouldn't have been your fault. None of this is your fault. This…whatever's happening to me…is beyond anything I've encountered before, and you…"—I shook my head emphatically—"You can't blame yourself if this ends badly. I feel _awful_ that you and your family have gotten dragged into this, and I can't tell you how sorry I am that you've had to suffer because of me. But there's still time for you to leave. Guilt is no reason to—"

"Guilt!" Edward was on his feet in a flash, his voice as close to a yell as I'd ever heard. "Is that why you think I'm here?"

I met his rage unflinchingly. "You're a good person, Edward. I know you think it's your fault that Victoria is after me, and that you feel like you have to defend my because of that. But I'm trying to tell you that it's okay if you don't. Please, get out of here while you can."

His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed menacingly. "Leave? You think I could leave, when you're here being hunted for sport by a sadistic vampire set out to destroy my very reason for existing."

_You've done it before._ But the bitter retort didn't make it off my tongue. "She doesn't know, Edward, that you don't…feel that way about me. And she won't be easily convinced otherwise. Maybe if she sees that you're willing to leave me here, she'll realize that she's wrong."

Edward blinked, starred at me listlessly for several seconds, and then ran a hand over his crazed bronze locks. "He was right," he chuckled bitterly. There was a darkness in his eyes I'd never seen before, something desperate.

"Who was right about what?" I asked warily.

He turned toward the window with a shake of his head. It was impossible to discern exactly what in the darkness he was staring out at. "He was right. You believed me completely. You really think I don't love you. After everything."

My heart beat angrily against the hole in my chest. My grip on the comforter turned almost painful. "What are you saying?" I whispered to his back.

Slowly—as if he was futilely fighting the movement with all his strength—he turned around and met my anxious eyes. His perfect lips tensed, thinned, and parted. "Bella, you always were and always will be the single most important thing in my life. You are the meaning of my existence and the one person who can elicit any true form of love from my soulless being."

* * *

AN: Because I have no soul. ;)

I know there are still plenty of questions that need to be answered. Really. I promise I haven't forgotten the mysterious details you're all agonizing over. But agonizing is part of the story experience, and I hope that you trust me to eventually shed light on these things. That being said, I love to hear your theories! Some of them have been pretty close to the mark.

Congrats to everyone who correctly guessed the mystery vamp! There was a good handful of you who did (I let you know if you were right in my review responses).

Also, updates should be coming fairly quickly from now on unless unplanned RL stuff crops up. So keep an eye out.


	23. Intentions

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twenty-three – Intentions_

* * *

I stared back at him. "Don't say that."

"Bella—"

"Don't!" The hand I held up to ward off his hurtful words trembled. "Don't tell me that you love me, that I'm your everything, or that you can't live without me, because I've heard it before. And I believed you. I believed you and then you left."

I angrily blinked away the tears threatening to spill and forced myself to take a deep breath. The exhale came out shakily. Edward watched, a guilty bystander to my mounting misery.

"You think that hearing you say that will make me feel better, because it's what I want to hear. And I wish I was able to believe that all of what you are saying is true. You know I do. But you have no idea what your lies have done to me. No idea."

He started forward, hesitated half of a step later, and then seemed to redouble his efforts to make it so my side. The bed sunk beneath him as he settled gracefully on the very edge. "Bella," he said quietly, "I _do_ know. I've seen…how things were after I left, and I've never felt like more of a monster for having hurt you so deplorably."

"Then why are you doing this to me?" I nearly yelled in frustration. Before I had always admired Edward's uncanny ability to keep his calm, but now the sincerity in his eyes and the purposeful smoothness of his features grated on the last measures of my own self-control.

The brush of his fingers along the back of one of my clenched fists shot tingles up my arm, the chill reaching my heart and holding on for dear life.

"Bella, the lie was not that I loved you." He took a slow, unnecessary breath. "On the contrary, the lie was that I could ever _stop_ loving you. What I said in the woods, about not wanting you, was blasphemy because wanting you has consumed my very existence and denying your hold on me would be denying who I am."

When you loved someone, you saw something in them that others didn't. It wasn't that they consciously chose to share that extra part of themselves with you; it was that you opened yourself to experience what lay beyond the faults and shortcomings. Looking at Edward in that moment, it was impossible not to see the truth staring me in the face. Buried beneath the betrayal, contempt, hurt, and deception, I recognized the honesty he was trying to let shine through.

And it hurt. It hurt like hell.

Holding back the tears was impossible, and I felt some minor satisfaction as they spilled over my cheek, causing Edward to flinch. But it wasn't enough. Because these weren't tears of despair; they were tears of anger and frustration. "Why! Why did you tell me that you didn't want me? How could you _do _that to me if you love me?"

He gathered my hands in his, squeezed them gently, and murmured passionately, "I was trying to protect you. Ever since I've entered your life, I've done nothing but put you in danger and destroy any chance you have of the beautiful, normal life you deserve."

I shook my head vigorously. "How can you say that? Do you really think that's all you ever did? Yes, Edward, there was danger, but there was also happiness and love. Weren't you happy? Didn't I make you happy?"

My tears began to slow, but my eyes stung, my throat felt raw, and there was an unrelenting pounding against my temple. I new I looked like a complete wreck, but Edward was staring at me as if I were some divine being descended from heaven.

"Yes," he whispered. "You make me happy. More than anything."

"And your leaving…It didn't protect me. It did more damage to me than any vampire slip-up ever could. You broke my heart. Add in Victoria and…"

Edward released me to drag a hand through his bronze mane of hair, tugging at the strands with a violence that my fingers would've crumpled beneath. "I know it was an unforgivable mistake. Now. But, Bella, I came back because—"

"Bella, thank God you're awake."

I lifted my head to see Jacob standing in the doorway, and the immense relief I felt at his arrival didn't even get a chance to set in before he was across the room, pulling me to him so tightly I thought I'd snap in two.

I fit my arms around his broad chest and pressed myself closer. His warmth felt amazing.

Small, quick kisses were being dropped on the top of my head and along the side of my face not pressed to his shoulder. Jacob's lips found my ear. "You all right, honey?"

I wasn't. I was so far from being all right, that I couldn't even remember what it felt like. But Jacob was holding me and we were safe, so it felt wrong to complain. "Sure, sure."

He made that gruff, half-laugh half-snort sound against my temple. "Still an awful liar. Guess you can't be _that_ different."

I pulled away slightly to see his face. My heart squeezed in my chest upon noticing the dark bruises beneath his eyes and the uncustomary paleness of his skin. He looked exhausted. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated and then seemed to become distracted by my own disgruntled appearance. One of his thumbs brushed away a tear from beneath my puffy eyes. "You've been crying?"

I felt his body stiffen in my arms as he turned toward Edward who had retreated back to stand by the darkened window. "You couldn't have waited for a better time?" he accused.

Edward stared back unflinchingly. "That is between Bella and me."

"Jake," I intervened when he opened his mouth to retort, "What did you mean when you said I couldn't be that different?"

He easily refocused on me, brushing back the mess of hair from my face before grudgingly explaining, "You smell different, Bells."

My eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean? How different? Maybe it's just that vampire from the woods."

Jacob shook his head grimly. "We got you all cleaned up once we were sure you weren't going to…" His eyes tightened in pain, and I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "And you still smell…off. And it's more than that."

"Your blood has changed," Edward spoke up even though he seemed reluctant to do so. "It doesn't…call to me as it did before."

I sat in shocked silence at that revelation, unable to form any sort of coherent response to discovering that my blood was no longer the one thing Edward desired above all things. It no longer filled his mouth with venom, no longer scorched a trail of fire down his throat, no longer sang to him with every beat of my heart.

"Do you remember at the hospital in Phoenix when you had to receive blood transfusions?" Edward continued.

I nodded. "You said it made me smell funny. You didn't like it." I looked back at Jacob, not bothering to keep the panic from my voice. "So, it's not my blood inside me?"

A warm, reassuring voice spoke up from behind me. "We're not jumping to any conclusions. There's no reason to assume that your blood belongs to anyone but yourself." I hadn't realized that Carlisle was even in the room. Just beyond him in the hallway, I could make out Leah's pinched face.

Carlisle stepped forward and gestured to my bandaged neck. "May I?"

"Yes, of course."

Jacob maneuvered to one side of the bed while maintaining his hold on my hand. His fingers absently traced the veins along my wrist as Carlisle went through the tasks of checking my temperature, eyes, and pulse. When he began removing the taped gauze from my neck, I readied myself for the onslaught of the tangy, coppery stench of blood. But the used bandage that Carlisle placed on the nightstand was pristinely white. Not a speck of dried blood.

Carlisle did a commendable job of keeping himself composed as he gently prodded the remarkably sealed skin where a gaping gash should have been. The pain was nothing more than a dull ache now. "There's quite a scar—for the moment anyway. We'll see how long it lasts."

I wondered at his ability to speak so calmly about something so bizarre before remembering that this was Carlisle, and he was a 400-year-old vampire who had witnessed and experienced more than I could ever dare to imagine. Perhaps he would even know something about the dreams…

_You have secrets now, but they are not your own._

Felicity's words tugged relentlessly at my conscience.

_It is not about trusting, it's about protecting._

I grimaced. Lying in order to protect. Wasn't that what Edward had done to me? And look how _that_ had turned out.

"Bella," Carlisle called me out of my thoughts, "I hope you can understand that we have a few questions about what occurred earlier today. But if you're not feeling well enough, we can discuss it once you've had some rest."

"No," I shook my head. "I'm fine." To prove my point I scooted closer to Jacob, and he helped me onto my feet. After a moment of gaining my bearings, I was able to support my own weight. When I looked up, everyone was watching me intently. I think they half-expected me to disappear right before their eyes.

I blushed and cleared my throat.

Carlisle—ever merciful—quickly suggested that we move downstairs where we'd all be accommodated more comfortably. I glanced down at the blue satin pajama bottoms and button down shirt someone had changed me into. Pretty, but not practical for what was sure to be a long, serious discussion about why I wasn't dead.

"Could I maybe, um—"

"Here, Bella, these are for you." Alice's instantaneous arrival to the room didn't surprise me as it would have once. But beside me, Jacob blinked in bewilderment as she flitted to my side and handed over a small, precisely-folded stack of clothing. "You'll be much more comfortable and relaxed-chic in these."

I accepted them with a tired smile. "Thank you, Alice."

She beamed at me. "You're welcome." Then she glided over to Edward and threaded an arm through his. "We'll be waiting downstairs. Esme is making broccoli fettuccini and garlic bread because she knows how ravenous you must be."

"She doesn't have to do that," I protested. But at the mention of food, my stomach rumbled angrily.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly. Esme loves cooking." Carlisle and Leah had already disappeared, and she began leading Edward out the door. Jacob reluctantly relinquished his hold on my hand.

"Don't go," I pleaded, catching his wrist. "Help me?"

He nodded and was visibly relieved at my offer for him to stay. I didn't think he wanted to be apart from me any more than I wanted to be apart from him.

Edward stopped just short of the doorway, but a subtle shove on Alice's part had him passing through the threshold before the door closed with a quiet click behind them.

The moment we were alone, I felt my calm façade go to pieces. The tears didn't come, but my chest ached with a familiar tightness that I'd come to associate with isolation and hopelessness. I bit my lip to stop it's trembling.

A warm, heavy hand settled on the side of my face. "Bells…"

I shook my head minutely. My eyes burned. "I don't know, Jake. I don't know what's happening. Everything's so…I think I did something terrible in a past life. Something really awful."

His dark eyes frowned back at me. "Why do you think that?"

"Because, why else is all of…_this_ happening to me?" I gestured to my marred neck. "Nothing makes sense, and I'm scared about what it all means."

"Hey," Jacob soothed, running one hand through my snarled hair and rubbing circles along my spine with the other. "Think about it this way: you were attacked by a vampire and _survived_. Not only that, but you're still you. No sparkles." His smile was dim but genuine. "And anything that keeps you alive and breathing is all right in my book."

I studied him in amazement. Jacob and his silver linings. But I guess it made sense; if he could find them in me, he could find them in anything.

"I love you," I said and raised my chin in invitation.

He wasted no time in lowering his head to seek out my lip. Sweet, chaste kisses quickly melted into molten, languid caresses that burned straight through any rationality to my desire. The need to be as close to him as physically possible was a constant tugging in my gut, and I felt it most potently when we were like this: close, but not close enough.

I stepped into his body, and he hummed his approval at the new proximity. "I think we're supposed to be taking your clothes off."

Always on top of things. "I think you're right."

As he focused on the buttons of my top I set the stack of borrowed clothing on the bed and worked on stepping out of the drawstring pants that were several inches too long on me—probably Esme's.

Jacob's hands stilled when the sleeves were pushed half-way down my arms, and when I looked up at him questioningly, his gaze was fixed on my left shoulder. It took me a moment to recall the large, black handprint now donning my skin, and I realized I'd been hoping it would disappear when I felt myself overcome with disappointment.

_Your soul is no longer your own. He took it. With the touch of his hand._

"I swear it wasn't there last night." He placed his hand over the mark, completely dwarfing it: they didn't match up. "You know," he murmured, tracing the pattern with a finger, "Embry thinks you look pretty hard now, what with your scars and tattoo. Thinks you might be out of my league. Apparently I'm too soft for a badass."

His lips twitched as if to smile, but they deflated into a thoughtful frown instead.

"You don't think I…did something to you, do you? Last night?" His lip found its way between his teeth. "No one else in the pack has…"—he meaningfully waved between us—"…with someone who's not their imprint. I don't know, but maybe I somehow—"

"Jacob, no." I took his face between my hands, effectively forcing him to meet my eyes. "This is not your fault. You did _nothing_. Last night was wonderful and perfect, and _you_ made it that way." I stared him down, daring him to disagree, and he eventually he caved with a slight nod.

I willingly allowed myself to be pulled against his chest as he wrapped me in a tight embrace. "It was so good, Bells," he muttered into my neck. "I can't stop thinking about it. We can have that together for the rest of our lives, and it would be everything."

My mind skipped forward ten years to a small back porch and the feel of a worn, wooden railing beneath my fingers. Jacob stood in the yard, a tiny, dark-haired child hanging from his neck and another wrapped around his leg. They all wore smiles that matched my own, and when I looked down at the infant in my arm and held her closer to the steady beat of my heart, a surge of contentment washed over me.

I blinked and the vision was replaced with Jacob standing before me, anguish written plainly across his face. "I see our future and it terrifies me because I want it bad, Bella. I want it all. And the thought of losing it, loosing you, is killing me."

I rose up onto my toes and kissed him. "Then don't think about it. I'm here now, Jake, and I have no intention of going anywhere without you." But I could tell that my reassurances did little for him, so I tried to smile encouragingly. "I'm sure we'll figure out what's going on. Maybe Carlisle will know something that will help; he's been around a long time."

He bought into that possibility about as much as I did but nodded nonetheless and allowed me to pull on the black leggings and fitted, lightweight sweater. I debated wearing the brown and white leg warmers Alice had given me while Jacob poked at them in confusion. My feet _were_ kind of cold. But they looked ridiculous.

Alice's voice floated up the stairs just as I was about to leave them folded on the bed. "Don't you dare, Bella."

Grumbling about my own inability to refuse pushy little women tugged the wool on each leg before heading to the door and pulling it open with unnecessary force.

Jacob chuckled from directly behind me, his breath hot against my neck. "You know, I think I like I this look." He simultaneously pulled my earlobe between his teeth while caressing my spandex-covered backside.

I gasped, swatted his hands away, blushed brilliantly, and made him walk down the stairs in front of me.

* * *

"Thank you, Esme. It was delicious." I placed my fork on top of my empty plate and moved to carry it to the sink but was intercepted halfway by an insistent Esme, who took the dishes from my hands.

"You're welcome, dear." She smiled in her usual kind way that always made me feel adored. "I was afraid that I'd be out of practice."

"Your worries were misplaced," I reassured her.

She beamed her thanks before turning to her complete attention to Jacob who was hunched over on top of one of the barstools surrounding the island. He looked stiff and out of place wearing only his dirt-stained cutoffs in middle of the Cullen's pristine kitchen, and I briefly wondered at the ridiculousness of the situation from his perspective. A vampire offering a werewolf a home-cooked meal.

At least he had stopped openly glaring.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Esme asked. "I'll be sending the leftovers home with Bella because they won't get eaten here."

"No." I shot him a pointed look, and he rolled his eyes before tacking on, "thanks."

Esme acted oblivious to his rudeness and went about rinsing my plate and utensils before adding them to the dishwasher. "Why don't you two join the others outside? I'll join you after I finish up in here."

That was all the encouragement Jacob need. He was up, grabbing my hand, and leading me to the sliding glass doors before the words even finished leaving Esme's mouth. I smiled at Esme apologetically over my shoulder but she waved it away with an amused look.

The moment we were outside, Jacob took a deep breath of cool night air, his shoulders relaxing considerably.

"What?"

"It doesn't smell as bad out here."

"Please," a smooth, feminine voice scoffed. "Our house is going to reek like wet dog and human food for weeks thanks to you."

Rosalie's statuesque form was poised against the railing on the far side of the expansive back deck, arms folded beneath her chest and sneer of distaste curling her lips. She looked stunning spotlighted in the artificial lighting against the inky backdrop of night. Stunning and terrifying.

Leah, who was flopped down on a cushioned wicker loveseat, rolled her eyes. "Don't mind Arctic Barbie. She's just cranky that the ice caps are melting." Leah pressed a hand to heart, face contorted in mock sympathy. "They were the only things that ever truly understood her."

Rosalie's eyes flashed threateningly as she took a step forward. Fortunately Carlisle chose that opportune moment to arrive with Emmett, Edward, Alice, and Jasper in toe. He placed a calming hand on his adopted daughter's shoulder. "Why doesn't everyone take a seat so that we can get started? There is a lot to discuss."

Rosalie shook off his hand with a scowl. "I don't think so. I refuse to be insulted by some rabid dog in my own home. And I can hardly breathe for the stench. Emmett, we're leaving."

"What? But, Rose," Emmett sulked, "this is gonna be good. What if Bella does something freaky again, and we miss it? Come on, babe."

But Rosalie was already stalking past him down the deck steps, not even stopping to scowl at Embry, Sam, and Seth as she passed them.

Emmet sighed and pointed a beefy finger in my direction. "Don't do anything too exciting while I'm gone, shortstuff." And then he vaulted over the railing into the night.

As the other present members of the pack came to join stand by Jacob and I, Leah narrowed her eyes at her brother. "What are _you_ doing here? Isn't it past your bedtime?"

Seth frowned. "It's only 9 o'clock."

"Exactly."

Sam cut in. "He asked to come along to make sure Bella was all right. I didn't see a problem with it."

Leah groaned as Seth flushed.

"For fuck's sake," she muttered, and I couldn't quite catch the rest about "prepubescent Quileutes" and "white women."

I looked up at Jacob, who was rolling his eyes. "Nine?" I questioned. "Does Charlie know where I am?"

He sighed. "Yeah. He thinks you spent the day with Alice and started feeling sick this afternoon. I gave him detailed accounts of how much you were vomiting to keep him away."

"You talked to him?"

"After the doc," he clarified. "Charlie felt better knowing I'm here too."

I raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Charlie was probably worried I'd do something drastic like run off with Edward to get married. But he had to be just as concerned about Edward and Jacob being under the same roof at the same time. Unless he _wanted_ the two of them fight. He'd most likely enjoy getting the chance to put Edward in jail. Even if it had been impossible for him to overcome the tag team persuasion of both Carlisle and Jacob, he was probably sitting at home by the phone with his gun in hand, just waiting for a reason to come over here.

"I guess we should get started then." I felt anxious knowing that I was the one who'd need to do most of the explaining. Everyone standing around the deck looking on edge and ready for battle only made me more nervous, and I sat down next to Leah to help ease my own tension.

Seth—who looked more comfortable than anyone else under the current circumstances—followed suit and collapsed into one of the patio chairs while Jacob settled at my feet. Sam remained standing, and even though he wore his calm, controlled mask, I knew he didn't like situation one bit. The truce with the Cullens was an uneasy one that didn't provide for late night chats on a vampire's back porch. But Sam also knew to be reasonable when it came to protecting the interests of his pack. And—whether it was due to my friendship with Emily and Leah or my relationship with Jacob—somewhere along the line I had become an interest.

Esme had just stepped outside and joined Carlisle in taking a seat on one of the various pieces of matching patio furniture. Alice hopped up onto the wooden banister, Jasper mimicking her position—an ever-constant shadow. At first glance, she seemed relaxed, kicking her legs back and forth beneath her, but periodically her eyes would appear out of focus as she gazed steadily at the ground, her brow furrowed.

Edward had maneuvered to stand just outside of our little circle behind Carlisle and to the left so that he was closer to Leah than I would have thought him comfortable being—though Edward had never been intimidated easily. He looked collected but more open than I had seen him in any of our previous encounters. His guard was down; I could see the sadness in his eyes.

Once everyone was settled, I found myself the focal point of their scrutiny but couldn't even fathom where to jump into this mess.

"Bella, why don't you tell us what happened this morning from your perspective?" Carlisle encouraged. "We've already heard from Emmett and Embry, but there are certainly some holes to be filled."

"Oh. Okay." I cleared my throat and took comfort in the pressure of Jacob's hand running up and down the length of my calf. "Well, I woke up just before eleven. And when I went to take a shower, I saw the…"—I gestured to my left shoulder—"…mark. At first I thought it was some sort of bruise, or dirt or something, but I tried washing it off and nothing happened. It didn't even hurt. I started freaking out, and that's when Emmett came in."

Carlisle nodded in understanding. "Yes, he was keeping an eye on the house while we were pursuing Victoria. He said he heard you experiencing some sort of difficulty and went in to… "

I straightened in my seat. "Victoria was in Forks?"

"We caught her scent near the treaty line yesterday morning," Sam offered. "Everyone was in school except for me, Embry, and Paul. We had Embry hang back to keep an eye on things in town while we chased her east, toward the Cullens."

"It would have been a successful cornering tactic, but she turned north at the last moment," Jasper muttered with a shake of his head. "I've never seen another vampire to match her evasion capabilities."

So the Cullens were after Victoria the same time I was in the woods. The thought gave me pause. Was that what the vampire had meant when he'd said they were "distracted?"

It had been a set-up. To get the Cullens and the pack out of the way. To get to me.

"What is it?" Jacob squeezing my knee pulled my attention to his concerned face. "Bells?"

"The vampire in the woods knew Victoria. He was working for her."

"It _spoke_ to you before jumping your jugular?" Embry asked in amazement.

Carlisle redirected the conversation. "How was it you ended up in the woods in the first place?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "Embry and Emmett started arguing, I fell in the hallway, and when I opened my eyes I was sitting in a creek. I'm not sure where exactly, but I'm guessing somewhere close to where Edward had found me. I was pretty out if it after he bit me…so I couldn't have gotten very far."

Edward and Carlisle exchanged a meaningful look, and I couldn't help but feel anxious as they partook in a silent conversation.

"Bella," Edward began, "I found you about three miles east of here. Almost ten miles from your house. But we came across traces of your scent and blood all over Forks and La Push. That's why it took it so long for us to locate you."

I shook my head in denial. "That's not possible. When I…_appeared_ in the woods, the vampire was already there. That's where he bit me and where he—" I cut myself off. "Afterwards I started walking. I didn't _go_ anywhere else."

Carlisle raised a placating hand. "Were you conscience the entire time? Did you ever blackout?

"No." My first instinct was to deny the possibility that I could have disappeared and reappeared somewhere else without ever being aware of it. But the more I tried to recall those frantic moments, the fuzzier they became. "Maybe. I don't know. I'd lost a lot of blood and my vision was coming and going. It's hard to remember exactly what happened." And it made me feel incompetent and useless.

But then a blanketing sense of serenity warmed my chest and caused me to relax back against the loveseat. I looked to Jasper and smiled weakly. "Thanks."

He tipped his head in acknowledgment.

"Why don't we go back to what happened once you first arrived in the woods," Carlisle suggested.

This was it. I garnered every ounce of fortitude I could from the Jasper-induced calm, and steeled my nerves. "I stood up and the vampire was watching me. He looked young, about my age. Blonde." I licked my suddenly dry lips. "He recognized me from a picture, he said. Victoria had told him about me, and said that she wanted me alive."

"Another scout?" Jasper wondered. "Maybe she was using him in the same capacity she's planned to use Laurent. She heard rumors that we were back in town and wanted to know what our numbers were like."

"No." Everyone turned to look at me in surprise at my firm refusal. I hastily explained, "He knew that you were back and he knew that at least most of you were chasing Victoria. He told me you were too distracted to help me. Like it was a set up."

"To get to you," Sam provided.

But something the vampire had said kept coming to mind. I hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now it didn't seem so arbitrary. "No. He wasn't supposed to run into me. He said he was sent for a shirt. One of mine."

Jacob looked up at me in puzzlement. "A shirt? But why would he—"

"Her scent," Edward said quietly.

Alice wrinkled her nose. "But she already has that. She knows what Bella smells like."

Edward was shaking his head. "She doesn't need it for herself." Something akin to horror was twisting his smooth, sculpted features. "The newborns in Seattle."

Carlisle raised his eyebrows in alarm. "Edward, you can't know for certain that the two are connected."

"Who else would risk recklessly acquiring so many newborns in such a short period of time?" Edward countered. "By now she could already have dozens at her disposal if the Volturi haven't stepped in."

Leah turned and muttered in my ear, "I've never seen a vampire so scared of babies before."

"Not newborn humans," Edward clarified. "Newborn vampires. Very volatile and very dangerous."

"You think Victoria is massing a newborn vampire army to come after Bella here in Forks?" Sam asked skeptically. "That seems like a lot of effort to take out one person."

"It's not in our nature to quit," Carlisle explained somewhat reluctantly. "If Victoria wants Bella dead as penance for the loss of James, then she will do whatever is necessary to achieve that end."

"A mate for a mate," Edward growled, a deep, menacing sound that shook me to my bones.

"That," Jacob bit out fiercely, "is not going to happen."

I covered his trembling hand with my own but had no other reassurances to offer. All I could see was the death and carnage that would accompany any confrontation between my loved ones and a horde of vengeful vampires.

And for the first time I worried about the fate of my own soul.

* * *

AN: And the plot thickens. Share your thoughts/concerns with me, dear readers.

Plug:

Have you read the Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare? Do you like fanfiction? If you answered "yes" to both of these questions, you should check out the new Mortal Instruments fanfic comm a good friend and I just created on LJ. It's called **tmi_fic** and it's gonna be pretty darn amazing. We'll have monthly drabble challenges, weekly fanfic rec posts, and soon we're going to start up an MI fic exchange! Wowzer! If you're interested in getting in on the fun, check out my profile for the link. :D


	24. Leah's Advice

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twenty-four – Leah's Advice_

* * *

The idea that Victoria could be massing together an army of vampires obviously didn't sit well with anyone. Jasper looked particularly troubled and contemplative beside Alice, who was being unusually silent on the matter. I wondered just how much she was able to see regarding our future but doubted that I really wanted an honest response.

Sam didn't bother masking his concern. "How do you even know there are all of these newborn vampires in Seattle?"

Carlisle looked grim. "The details of the spike in violent murders being reported in the news are indicative of poorly concealed vampire attacks. Only newborns would be that careless. Their ability to resist the draw of human blood is nearly non-existent and in a city as heavily populated as Seattle there are bound to be incidents. If it is Victoria behind these turnings, then she is most likely experiencing difficulties controlling the newborns, which suggests there are a sizable number of them."

"Wait." Jacob shifted at my feet, leaning forward to fold his arms over the top of his bent knees. "If these young vampires can't control themselves around humans, that makes sense that the one who attacked Bella couldn't resist himself. But then how the Hell did he manage to stop once he'd started? Or why didn't he take Bella with him?"

Carlisle didn't have an answer of course. And I watched, nauseous with trepidation, as the Cullens exchanged uncertain, confounded glances—except for Edward. I shifted anxiously in my seat under his unwavering scrutiny. Eyes pointedly affixed to the wicker armrest, I refused to meet his attempts to probe my silent mind.

"Bella."

"Hm?" When addressed directly, I forced myself to look up at Edward, who in that moment appeared entirely too innocent and sure of himself for my liking.

"Perhaps if you were to give us the specifics of what happened, we would have a better idea of ascertaining the motives behind his behavior." His eyes silently dared me to lie.

Damn it.

Briefly I considered claiming that I done another one of my disappearing acts, but I knew it was useless. Lying by omission was the extent of my deception capabilities. Charlie was the only one whoever bought my fibs, and that was just because he subconsciously chose to turn a blind eye to them. There was no way for me to deliver anything less than the truth to a crowd of vampires and werewolves who could detect every irregularity of my heartbeat and lungs.

I sighed. "He didn't leave. Exactly."

Jacob and everyone else turned to look at me.

"He's can't be in Forks." Sam frowned. "We completely scoured the area after you turned up." I saw Carlisle nod his agreement out of the corner of my eye.

"He didn't leave." I bit my lip and caught Jacob's eye. "He's dead."

There was a moment of silence, and then Jacob grabbed my hand encouragingly. "How do you know, honey?"

"Because I…I think I killed him."

Jacob blinked. "What?"

Embry snorted. "Bella, now I think you're as badass as the next person,"—Leah rolled her eyes—"what with the whole scar/tattoo combo look you've been rocking lately and that brief stint of drug trafficking, but I'd say that you're still about one-step shy of being Blade, or even Whistler, his less buff and less black sidekick."

"Well, obviously I didn't actually _fight_ him," I mumbled in exasperation, irritated that I was being ridiculed for telling the truth.

"Like you said, Bella, you'd lost a lot of blood," Edward tried to pacify me. "There's a chance you think you saw things that you didn't." Clearly my explanation had not been the one he'd anticipated, and now he regretted pressing me.

"I know what I saw." As if this was something I'd imagined or made up.

Jacob's fingers brushed my ankle. "Bells…"

I bristled at his placating tone. "I wasn't hallucinating, Jacob." But he didn't look convinced, and I pulled my legs up to cross beneath me as I straightened stubbornly in my seat.

Carlisle was watching me contemplatively, and I couldn't tell if he was assessing the probability of my claim or my current state of health. But finally he asked, "What do you remember, Bella?"

I nodded and nearly sighed with relief that at least someone was giving me credit. "One moment he was biting me, and then, just when I was feeling lightheaded, he stopped." Edward opened his mouth to protest, but I plowed on. "But it wasn't like he _chose_ to stop. He fell to the ground and he was…"—I struggled to find the words to describe what I had witnessed—"…convulsing like he was in pain? He kept tearing at the ground and clutching at his throat. I think he might have tried to say something, but I couldn't make it out. And then he…turned to dust. Right there on the ground."

I wasn't sure what reaction I was expecting, but the blank looks I received definitely weren't it.

"Dust" Edward echoed back.

I nodded.

"I've never heard of it," Jasper dismissed with a shake of his head, as if that automatically discounted it of any truth. Alice furrowed her eyebrows.

Sam, who still stood with his massive arms folded across his chest, looked expectantly at Carlisle. "Is that possible?"

He seemed to consider it for a moment before saying carefully, "I've never heard of anything of that nature occurring, but that hardly means it's impossible."

"It's not possible." Edward stepped forward into the circle. "She was delirious. It's most likely that the vampire caught the scent of one of the wolves or one of us and decided to flee. Taking Bella with him would have only impeded his escape."

"I was not _delirious_," I snapped, surging to my feet. Edward stiffened as I approached him but held his ground. He met my fiery stare with a steeled expression of calm. "I'm telling the truth. One moment he was seizing up and hurting himself because he couldn't stand the pain and then next he was a pile of dust."

"If you did this to him, then how is it _I'm_ still alive, Bella?" He challenged, leaning toward me so that I received the full force of his incredulity. "I drank your blood, and I'm still standing. And what about James? We had to burn him before he turned to ash."

I couldn't tell him about the dreams, and about what Felicity had told me even though I wanted to scream it the entire world just so I wouldn't be left alone with my secret. I couldn't betray her. Not when she was the only one who knew what was really going on. She was…a part of me, a part I didn't fully understand yet.

"I don't know," I muttered instead. My blunt nails dug mercilessly into my palms as I clenched my hands in frustration. "But you said it yourself; my blood is different. Something's changed. Look!"—I pulled at the neckline of my sweater to partially reveal the undeniable stain—"That's not normal! It's like I've changed somehow, and just because no one here knows why or how, doesn't make it any less real. I spontaneously _transported_ into the woods! How can you explain that?"

"No." Edward's hands shooting out to seize my shoulders startled me. "There is _nothing_ wrong with you," he growled darkly. "You're human. Ordinary. There's something out there doing this, and you've just gotten caught in the crossfire."

The appearance of Jacob at my side would have eased my anxiety if not for the plain threat laced in his voice as he glowered at Edward and demanded, "Take your hands off her."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see his hand twitching with the need to remove Edward personally, but Edward must have picked up on Jacob's less-than-accommodating thoughts and allowed his arms to fall lifelessly back to his sides—but he didn't step away. "I would never harm her."

Jacob stared back, slipped an arm around my waist, and pulled me back until I was standing slightly behind him.

"But it's not me hurting her that you're worried about is it?" Beneath the smooth, pleasant quality of his voice, challenge colored Edward's tone. Something glinted in his eyes.

"Bella's safety and happiness is _all_ that matters to me," Jacob maintained icily. "But you can't say the same, can you?"

Edward looked ready to retort when Leah snorted derisively from her seat.

"Not this shit again," she complained, legs crossed and arms folded beneath her chest as she shot the two a withering look. "If I have to sit through another round of 'Bella's the mother-fucking wind beneath my wings, and I would sooner let my eyes get pecked out by fucking lightning bugs then hurt one hair on her pale-ass head,' I _will _flip my shit, and I _will _make sure your balls are within striking distance when it happens." She leaned back against the loveseat with a sniff. "Write a fucking sonnet and keep it to your own damn self."

"Leah," Sam warned.

Carlisle and Esme looked gob smacked, Jasper raised his eyebrows, Alice pursed her lips in annoyance, and Embry and Seth were suppressing snickers. Edward, however, didn't spare her a glance. He only had eyes for Jacob, who was openly scowling at him.

Looking between the two, I shook my head in disbelief. Victoria was out there building an army of vampires, I was inexplicably teleporting around Forks, and a vampire had just crumpled to ash after drinking my blood, and they wanted to _argue _over who cared about me more?

I shrugged myself from beneath Jacob's arm and brushed past Edward on my way to the edge of the deck. The damp grass was startlingly cold against my exposed toes.

"Where are you going?" Jacob trailed after me.

"For a walk. I need to sort some things out."

When he continued to keep pace, I shot him an exasperated glance.

"Alone."

"I don't think that's—"

I dodged the hand he reached toward my shoulder. "Well, I do."

"Hey," he murmured, this time effectively snagging my wrist and forcing me to stop, "if this is about what Edw—"

"It's not!" I whirled on him, shoulder's squared so that we were facing off behind one of Esme's hydrangea bushes. "It's not about him. Or you. It's about scary dreams, strange tattoos, disappearing and reappearing, turning vampires into little piles of dust, and…everything! It's about everyone—including you—dismissing it all, when we don't even know what's really going on yet."

He dropped my arm with a frustrated noise. "Well, what do you want me to _do_ about it?" he pleaded. "I'm here with your vampires, sitting on the back porch like it's the annual family reunion, and _not_ ripping off the head of the guy who looks like he's an inch from grabbing you up and making a run for it. What more do you want?"

We were yelling now. And I didn't care about our supernatural audience several yards away that could hear every harsh breath and the ever-quickening pounding of my heart. Because the only true secrets I had left were the ones I didn't want to keep.

A purposeful step closer left us nearly nose-to-chest. "I want you to support me! What I said back there about the vampire nearly draining me before spontaneously crumpling into the dirt was true. I wasn't lying, and I wasn't _delusional_." The word left my tongue like the crack of a whip, daring him to disagree. "I understand that that might be a little hard to believe, or that you might not _want_ to believe that's what happened, but that's not the point. I need you to trust me."

Slowly I stepped back, forcing myself to swallow my anger. From this angle, Jacob's face was cast in the shadows of night, and all I could make out was the faint shining of his eyes.

"I need you to trust me because no one else has to." And then my eyes slid past his shoulder to everyone still on the porch blatantly watching us, and my courage fled. Nervously I bit my lip as I felt my face flush with heat. When Jacob said nothing, I executed an unsteady turn and started toward the trees that backed the Cullen's property, both praying and dreading that he wouldn't follow me.

He didn't.

There was something comfortingly nostalgic about stumbling through the woods in the dark. Woods in general were soothing, but at night, when the trees lost their color and—to some degree—their shape, you became the largest thing out there. Bark, fallen leaves, and low-hanging branches faded until they were "the woods," and all that was left was you and your efforts to reach something that wasn't "the woods"—or in my case, efforts to find even more of it. I wondered at how I'd managed so long in Phoenix without them.

But it wasn't just me and the woods. There was that cool tingling sensation in my chest.

"Jacob?"

"Think ten times hotter, five times more intelligent, and twice as honest."

I squinted to my right. "Leah?"

"AKA the Psycho Bitch." She stepped close enough that I could make out the curve of her face and the outline of her short linen dress, the one she wore when she might have to phase. I knew that she was able to see me with perfect clarity.

So I frowned. "I said I wanted to be alone." And I turned and walked away.

"And no one gave a shit." Her steps beside me were silent, but I could hear the shrug in her voice.

We continued on for what must have been several minutes, Leah taking the liberty to curse every time I stumbled—which was often—and tried to trip me up whenever I went too long without a slip. Soon the atmosphere between us thinned so that I was able to relax and breathe without the noise sounding like a vacuum next to my ears.

I sighed. "Jacob was…an ass."

"Stupid fucker," she agreed.

"He should've supported me," I groused.

"Men," she grunted. "One night they're all up in your vagina and the next they've gone and grown one themselves."

_That_ brought me to an abrupt halt. "You know about that?" I asked anxiously.

"About Jacob's vagina? I'd always suspected—"

"No," I hissed. "You knew that Jacob and I…"

"Uh, yeah," she scoffed. "Pack mind, remember? More commonly referred to as the "mental orgy." We were all phased after school, looking for you."

I was staring at her dubiously. "And he was thinking about _that_?"

"He's a sixteen-year-old boy. His train of thought goes a little something like this: tree, tree, tree, tree, boobs, tree, tree, tree, naked girl, tree, stream, legs, tree, ass, tree, skin, tongue, orgasm, orgasm, orgasm. There might've been a few stray thoughts about your well-being, but I was doing the best to tune him out. Seth could provide you with a verbatim script."

That…was mortifying. And not something I wanted to discuss. With anyone but Jacob. Ever.

I cleared my throat. "Edward was an ass, too."

"And you didn't even fuck _him_. Bitchy little douchebags the both of them."

Her unfaltering support was reassuring, giving me the courage to go on, "Heaven forbid I should be anything but a helpless human!"

"That presumptuous little bastard of a Cocker Spaniel."

"And _no one_," I seethed, "believed me when I told them the truth about the vampire in the woods. They all acted like I was seeing things!"

She nodded vigorously. "Did you hear Embry call you white?" she goaded. "I thought he was your friend."

"Exactly!"

"And you are _so_ Blade. Possibly even cooler. Even fucking Buffy Summers needed a stake to dust a vamp."

"Yeah—erm…" I leaned in close so that I was able to make out her face. A small smirk was twisting her lips. I blinked in realization. "You're mocking me!"

"Smarter than Buffy, too."

Scowling, I turned to march onward. "I was being serious."

She was completely unremorseful. "And you only sounded fucking ridiculous for three-fourths of the conversation."

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't fucking roll your Betty Davis' at me."

Stupid werewolf senses.

"Look, Summers, I get it." She was matching my angry stride with ease. "Crazy shit's going down. And it's intense, and Squanto and Fabio are trying to see who can throw a big rock the farthest, and everyone thinks you have the capability of a gerbil. But throwing a tantrum before turning ass and running for the hills isn't going to go a long way to change things."

I listened and—grudgingly—recognized the truth in what she was saying. What I'd told Jacob had been the truth, and I didn't regret letting him know how I felt. But I did regret that he hadn't responded, and that he wasn't here with me now. I felt foolish. And who knew Leah could be so…philosophical?

"If you really want to get things done, you've gotta be a bitch about it."

I smirked and shook my head. "Are you suggesting that I channel you?"

"No," she snorted. "You'd hurt yourself and insult me. Just…don't fucking run away the next time you put Jacob in his place. Otherwise you won't get the chance to see him grovel."

I shook my head at the thought of that possibility. "Thank you, Leah," I said sincerely, as she guided us in what I could only assume was the direction of the Cullen's house.

"Whatever."

* * *

As the woods thinned out and the trees became trees again I could tell we were close to getting back. Soon the light of the back porch was discernable and bright enough to highlight the large silhouette peeling away from one of the final trees as we approached.

And this time there was no doubt about who it was.

Jacob held out his hand to me, and I readily relinquished my own to his warm grasp.

"The others headed back to the Rez," he told Leah. "Sam didn't think we'd get anything more figured out tonight."

Leah didn't look surprised. "Meaning he wanted to talk to the elders before they figured out through some other channel—i.e. Quil's obnoxiously big mouth—that we've been cozying up to bloodsuckers all evening."

Jacob shrugged but otherwise didn't respond.

"Fan-fucking-tastic. Then I'll leave you two to your angry make-up sex so that I'll be surprised when I see it all in Jacob's head later."

I watched in relief as she loped back into the woods, her black dress and hair bleeding into the darkness shortly before her russet skin. The moment she was gone, I turned to Jacob. "I'm sorry. About earlier. I shouldn't have yelled, and I shouldn't have left."

He shook his head. "No. You don't need to apologize. I was a complete ass."

"Well, Leah and I did agree about that," I admitted and felt my chest warm at the sign of a smile that lit his face.

"Leah called me an ass?"

"No, but I don't want to repeat what she _did_ call you."

His grin broadened. "Did it start with a 'd'?"

I smiled stupidly and leaned in against his solidness. "One of them. But don't worry; Edward got it worse."

"Really?"

"Mmm," I nodded.

"She must be warming up to him then." His lips caught the bridge of my nose as he spoke, tickling me lightly. "Leah will cuss at anybody, but she only insults people she considers worthwhile."

I thought about how true that was and all the terrible things she had said about Edward and nearly laughed. "Don't let her hear you say that."

"What? I think they'd be cute together. She could show him how to spit, and he could teach her how to use a fork and knife. It'd be a thing of beauty."

"Jacob," I admonished but couldn't bring myself to pull far enough away to glare appropriately.

"I really am sorry, Bells, about not pulling through for you earlier. I know I said that anything that keeps you alive can't be bad, but this is…" His voice faded with his ability to find the words to describe what was transpiring in our lives.

"I know. But I'm not going to be able to get through this without you. You're the air, Jake, the sun. You know how much I need you." I tilted my eyes up to catch his. "But I also understand if this is too much, if you want out. You were right. You've done a lot for me, and I don't want you to resent what—"

"Yeah, Bells, I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?"

Even if I would've protested, I never got the chance. His mouth found mine with the same certainty he always handled me with, coaxing my lips apart so his tongue could skim along the top of my own.

There was always so much heat when we were like this; the pleasant kind heat that intensified the low, steady throb in my abdomen and spurred my heart to beat twice as fast. Blindly my fingers grasped at the belt-loops of his jeans to steady myself when the light-headedness started to set in. Jacob withdrew far enough so that I was able to take in a gasping breath, but not so far that he couldn't reach my earlobe with his teeth. Meanwhile his fingers located the elastic band of my leggings.

The throb turned to an ache. And for the briefest moment I let my mind wander back to last night and how good it had felt in the end. I even eyed the ground and considered how comfortable it would be. But then I remembered just whose ground it was and what they could _hear_, and that was enough to snap me out of my Jacob-induced haze.

"Jacob," I moaned, "we can't…here…"

"Ugh, I know." He sounded as disappointed as I did. But he also kissed me one final time on the temple before pulling away so that we were only holding hands.

I smiled at his understanding.

"Hey, Bells?"

Noting the sudden seriousness of his expression, I tentatively answered, "Yes?"

"We're not done talking. About earlier."

"Oh." I frowned. "What else did you want to discuss?"

He shook his head. "Later."

That sounded slightly ominous. But the pressure of Jacob's palm against my own was reassuring, and I pushed any thoughts on what exactly he wanted to discuss to the back of my mind for later.

I also decided to redirect the conversation.

"So, are they still waiting to talk to me?" I felt horrible about how I'd left the Cullens in the middle of our discussion. It hadn't been the ideal time for me to lose my cool, and while I wasn't sure exactly how long Leah and I had been gone, my body was telling me that it was late.

"No. The doc thought it'd be good to give everyone some time to cool off. He also said…"

"Yes?"

"He also said you could stay the night here," he huffed. "In case you still didn't feel good or if you were worried about 'relapsing' or something." Jacob was clearly displeased with this scenario, and I acted quickly to soothe him.

"That was generous of him, but I really think I'd like to go home. I do have school in the morning."

"You're going to school?" he asked in surprise. "You could always just call in sick. Charlie will let you stay home."

"I know, but I really don't want to sit around the house all day. School will be a good distraction." Plus the wolves won't have to worry about patrolling around the house if I was with Edward and Alice.

"You are the only girl I know who would passes up an opportunity to skip out on school." He tugged affectionately on my hand, and we began crossing Esme's garden.

We'd just stepped onto the back porch when Carlisle came through the sliding glass doors, a small bundle in his hands. "Bella. Jacob," he greeted in his usual warm fashion.

"Carlisle," I began, "I am so sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to be so rude."

He waved the apology away. "No need to apologize, I assure you. Everyone is under a lot of stress at the moment." He proffered the object in his hands. "I wanted to give this to you before you leave for the evening."

"What is it?" I curiously accepted the solid, rectangular packaged wrapped is soft red cloth. It was light.

"I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "But maybe you'll be able to make better sense of it."

Not truly understanding his meaning, I could only offer a "thank you."

"No, I'm sure I'll be the one thanking you." And then he turned his attention to Jacob. "Will you be needing to borrow a car to take Bella home? Or I could drive you myself."

"No. We'll be fine," Jacob assured him. But I wasn't as certain.

"What about Charlie? How are we going to explain you 'running' me home?"

"Charlie is asleep," Carlisle supplied, "according to Alice. I talked to him just after you left to let him know that you'd be staying the night. But I'm sure he won't object to seeing you home safe and sound in the morning."

I nodded in agreement and knew it was time for Jacob and I to take our leave. "Thank you, Carlisle, for everything." I could have listed a dozen things he'd done, but I could never completely convey my gratitude for what he and his family had done for me.

He smiled softly. "Anything for family, Bella."

My breath caught, and I had to blink away irrational tears at his words. "You'll tell everyone else I said goodnight?" I wanted to ask him to say something else to Edward, but thought better of it. That was something I needed to tell him face-to-face.

"Of course."

"Thank you."

* * *

**AN:** Carlisle, I love you so freaking much, you gorgeous, sweet man.

I forgot to mention last chapter that voting is now open for the final wave of categories in The Underdogs. Don't miss out! Here's the address where you can vote (just put in the "dots"): http:/community(dot)livejournal(dot)com/theair_thesun/108134(dot)html


	25. Precarious

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twenty-five – Precarious_

* * *

Jacob decided that my health was too questionable for me to ride wolf-back—though I imagined it had more to do with him not wanting to catch any of Leah's acidic thoughts than any real fear that I might pass out and fall off—so he arranged me securely in his arms before taking off at a brisk pace into the woods blanketing the Cullen's property. I clutched the object Carlisle had given me in one hand and raised the other to stroke the thick hair that was beginning to wave over the back of his neck. He still hadn't gotten it cut.

Jacob was able to move with astonishing speed and agility despite the additional burden of my awkward weight, and the whole trip home I was hardly ever jostled. The closer we got to Forks, the more light that filtered in past the trees, and I watched Jacob's face intently as bits and pieces of it were revealed to me. His skin, a beautiful russet under the sun shined like mercury in the feeble lighting of night, carving out his strong features in sharper angles than I was accustomed to. The over-emphasized shadows that silhouetted his eyes and jaw cloaked him evocatively, and I leaned up against his solid chest to see him more clearly.

He glanced down at me in concern. "You, okay?"

His eyes were intense, and I was reminded of how he'd stared at me after we'd kissed earlier—like I was the only thing he ever wanted to look at. It was the same way he'd looked at me last night when we'd been alone and everything had been so much simpler. My bare toes curled at the memory.

"Bells?"

"Yes." I angled my head up so that when I wetted my lips with a sweep of my tongue, I caught the tip of his ear as well.

His body stiffened. I smiled to myself triumphantly.

More purposefully I hummed against the shell of his ear—which had to be the most fragile part of Jacob's otherwise impermeable body—before drawing it between my teeth and applying the slightest amount of pressure.

He stumbled.

"Are _you_ okay, Jake?" I asked not bothering with an attempt to sound coy. My soft laughter was smothered against the curve of his neck as he agilely righted us a step later.

"Uh…"

"I love this ear, Jake." I kissed the damp skin in emphasis before gently blowing against it. "Have I ever told you that?"

His answering shiver shook my entire body. "What are you…" he exhaled shakily.

With some wriggling and rearranging of my legs I was able to maneuver so that I was wrapped snuggly around Jacob's torso, his hands supporting the bottoms of my things—the heat of skin burned through the thin spandex like it wasn't even there.

From this position I could easily wrap my arms around his neck and press my cheek to his. I sighed in contentment. "I'm trying to seduce you," I informed him matter-of-factly and was rewarded with a deep chuckle.

"I can tell."

"How am I doing?"

"I don't know…"

I smiled. And rolled my opportunely positioned hips downward.

This time instead of stumbling, he came to a complete stop. "Jesus, Bella!" His voice was a thick mess of astonishment and…arousal?

"We're alone," I cajoled with a kiss to his open mouth. "Finally."

"We're in the _woods_," he said dubiously.

I leaned back and made a valiant effort at the one-eyebrow lift.

Jacob groaned. "I've created a monster."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't say anything because he had every right to be so self-confident. He'd been amazing, and I did want him again. Badly.

"And, actually, we won't be alone for much longer." He motioned with his head, and I craned my neck around to see the back of my house looming through the trees ahead of us. Ugh.

Making one last attempt at persuasion, I buried my face on the other side of his head, my lips seeking out his ear like a bee starved for honey. "This one didn't get any attention, Jake." I licked the soft, curvy contours. "It feels neglected," I chastised.

His hold on my legs turned almost painful, and for a few short seconds I thought the battle won. But then my stomach dropped to my feet as Jacob suddenly sprung forward, shooting through the remaining foliage before I could blink, scaling the tree outside the house, and launching into my open bedroom window in a breath-taking show of dexterity that had me gasping. He landed on the floor in a quiet crouch, hardly taking the time to straighten before peeling me away from his body and depositing me on the bed.

Quickly he retreated back several steps and held out a hand. "Stay," he told me seriously. And then he was gone back through the window.

For several moments I remained sitting obediently on the middle of bed—which was still unmade from that morning. My entire room was a disaster really. Dirty clothes piled on the floor in the general vicinity of my hamper, and clean ones draped over the back of my desk chair, which was masquerading as a book case, things were less tidy than usual. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been in here to do anything but sleep or change my clothes.

When a couple of minutes went by without Jacob's return, I got up, placed Carlisle's package on the nightstand, and began tidying up. I knew he wouldn't care whether or not my room was messy, but _I_ minded. For someone as accident prone as myself, it was important to have the floor as free from obstruction as possible. A stray sock could prove deadly.

Just as I was replacing the wayward lid atop the stuffed hamper, a blossoming coolness in my chest alerted me to Jacob's reappearance. I turned to see him gracefully slide in through the window.

"Where'd you go?"

My eyes followed him around the room as he leaned over the desk, dresser, and bed, inhaling deeply.

"Jacob?"

He sighed, and seemed to relax marginally. "There was a scent I didn't recognize outside the house."

"Vampire?" And I had the sudden urge to run down the hall and make sure Charlie really was safely asleep in his bed. Had someone from the pack been keeping an eye on the house that evening.

But Jacob quickly assuaged my fears. "Not vampire," he muttered, "but something…"

"I do have neighbors," I said lightly, trying to ease the remaining tension from his shoulders. "You know, humans: two legged creatures, omnivores, work nine to five, don't bark or have vendettas against me."

Jacob frowned. "I don't know. It just smelled…funny."

"Like I smell funny?" I asked while approaching him to wrap my arms around his waist. His hands immediately went to my hips.

I felt his smile against my hair. "You don't smell funny. You smell very, very good."

I rubbed my nose liberally against Jacob's chest to take in his own magnificent scent and was flooded with memories from the previous night, the closeness we'd shared. He'd been all I could smell, taste or touch.

"What are you grinning about?" he murmured, and I was sure he could feel my parted lips against his skin.

"Nothing," I dismissed quickly. "Are your ears feeling lonely?"

He made a frustrated grunting sound that I found decidedly endearing. "Here I am, ready to talk about my _feelings_ and our _relationship_, and all you want to do is molest my poor ears. They're gonna be gnawed off by morning."

"Does that mean you're staying the night?" I asked, pleased at the prospect. As incredible as last night had been, I wished we'd had a longer 'after' together. Jacob had needed to drive me home too soon. I wanted to wake up next to him.

"Well, I can either sleep in here with you or on the cold, hard, wet ground outside with the spiders and worms—"

"Here," I said decisively, tugging him to sit down on the bed beside me. This seemed to please him immensely, and the small amount of dignity I could lay claim to flared up, so that I scooted back against the headboard even though I didn't really want to.

He smirked at the modest space between us. "What? Don't think you can keep your hands to yourself?"

I met his level gaze with pursed lips. "What's this about your _feelings_, Jake?"

He wasn't so smug once the tables were turned, and he sobered up quickly, losing his smile but not the warmth in his eyes. "Yeah,"—he cleared his throat—"so, you yelled at me. Loudly."

I winced. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

He lifted his eyebrows at me. "You are?"

"Well," I vacillated, "no. I mean, I meant what I said, but I didn't have to yell." Just recalling my public outburst caused me to blush.

He considered that. "But we were both yelling. That's not what I'm really worried about."

Well, aside from the screaming, there had only been…

"Oh, you mean Edward." I tried to sound as neutral as possible, which was pointless considering this was Jacob I was trying to deceive.

Jacob nodded. "Back there when you said it wasn't about him. Did you mean it?"

I thought back to that moment when I'd stomped off the porch and what I'd been feeling. Frustration. Confusion. Fear. Resentment. Even if Edward hadn't been the sole purpose of my anger, I couldn't deny that what he'd said had affected me.

I raised my knees to my chest and topped them with my chin. "He told me he loved me. More than anything. He said that he left in order to protect me." But Jacob already knew that, of course. He'd been trying to convince me of Edward's feelings since his return, and while I hadn't understood his reasoning at the time, now I felt the weight of his words.

"_I'm saying it's okay that you love Edward. And that you need to realize that it's okay for him to love you."_

Was it okay? It certainly didn't _feel_ okay. I felt jumbled and slightly nauseous, and I was beginning to realize that there was no "right way up" in the minefield that was the cross section of my head and my heart. Because love and happiness didn't always keep company.

"You believed him." He sounded cautious, unsure about where to step next.

"Jake…"

"But you're here," continued somewhat less hesitantly. "With me."

Abandoning my solitary position by the headboard and forgoing any pretense of self-righteousness, I crawled the short distance to his lap, where he wrapped his arms around me and drew us back toward the center of the bed. He stretched his long legs out and I settled between them easily.

"I'm here with you," I reaffirmed and brushed the hair from his face, which was bowed to meet mine.

We kissed and pretended that the words didn't need any more clarification.

Each time our lips caught or his tongue grazed mine, I found myself less and less worried about what I was supposed to be feeling and more focused on how Jacob made me feel—every moment we were together. Precious. Loved. Alive. Strong. Reckless. In love.

"We're alone," I gasped when his mouth finally broke from mine to nip at my chin and the sensitive skin along underside of my jaw. And we were—mostly. Charlie was sound asleep down the hall.

"You've gotta promise me you can be quiet, honey," he murmured, and I was nodding before he even finished, his hands sliding up beneath my shirt just as prematurely.

My hands didn't dither. As soon as they were freed from their sleeves, they sought out the bronze skin of Jacob's back to trace the subtle sinew of muscle that ran from his shorts to the top of his shoulder blades. The feather-light touch of my fingertips there elicited the same response it had the previous night: a quick tremor followed by the tightening of his hands on my waist.

Without warning Jacob flipped me onto my back and rolled over to pin me to the bed. I laughed—a little too loudly.

"Bells," Jacob groaned into my neck, and I panicked when I felt him begin to pull away. Securing my thighs around his hips and my arms around his neck, I used every ounce of strength to hold him tightly to me.

"No. No. No. I'm sorry," I murmured hurriedly, kissing his cheek in apology. "I promise to be quiet as a mouse from now on." I wriggled my hips as an extra incentive.

"You're lucky you're cute," he muttered before ravishing my inked shoulder with open-mouth kisses. I bit my lip to keep a moan from escaping but couldn't reign in the convulsive flexing and relaxing of my legs around his body. As my clumsy fingers fought for purchase on the button of his shorts, Jacob struggled with the clasp of my bra. Just as I felt the material give way from my shoulders, Jacob went perfectly still.

"What—"

"Charlie," he muttered painfully.

Eyes wide, I shot up and began frantically pushing at Jacob's unmoving chest. "Go! Hide," I hissed.

"What?" He grinned in amusement as he whispered, "You mean you weren't laughing loud enough to wake the dead so that Charlie would walk in on us with my hand down your pants—er—long underwear things?" But his teasing had a nervous edge. Even Jacob wasn't immune to the fear of being gunned down by cranky, sleep-deprived police chief defending the honor of his teenage daughter.

"Jacob," I scowled. "Closet." And after some more aggressive shooing, he slowly made his way over to my postage stamp of a walk-in closet. Just as the door closed behind him, I could make out Charlie's sluggish steps in the hall. Diving beneath the blankets, I did my best to situate them so that my state of undress was undetectable. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed my heart to stop beating so loudly.

The door creaked open just far enough for Charlie to lean his head in. "Bells?" From the rough quality of his voice and the mused disarray of his hair, I could tell he'd been sleeping—as Alice had predicted.

"Hey, Dad." I breathed, while trying to surreptitiously worm my way further beneath the covers.

He stepped farther into the room. "When d'you get back?"

I shot a glance at my alarm clock. 12:13.

"Um, just a little bit ago," I hedged. "Sorry I woke you up. Good night, Ch-Dad."

But Charlie didn't take the out.

"I thought you were staying the night at the Cullens?" he questioned gruffly, and I could sense that he wanted to say something a bit more on _that_ matter.

"I was, but then I remembered that I had some stuff here I needed to take to school with me tomorrow." Even I had to wince at how weak an explanation it was. And unfortunately Charlie wasn't being his usual unobtrusive self—a change I'd noticed since accident with Leah.

"I don't know if you should be going to school tomorrow with how sick Carlisle was telling me you were. I mean, you still look all…"—he waved to my head peaking up over the top of blanket—"…flushed."

I couldn't be certain, but I thought I heard Jacob snicker.

"No, I feel much better now," I assured him, blushing even brighter. "The fever broke, and Carlisle said I would be all right to go to school as long as I feel okay in the morning. He gave me a ride home on his way to the hospital for a night shift."

Slowly, Charlie nodded in acceptance, and I nearly melted in relief. But then he lingered in the doorway looking uncomfortable. "And everything went okay? With the Cullens?"

"Yes," I said, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "You know, I wouldn't have left you over there if Jacob hadn't been with you."

And I understood what he was telling me. He didn't trust Edward. And he especially didn't trust _me_ with Edward.

I swallowed and nodded.

"Good night, Bells."

* * *

Sometime just after dawn, Jacob stirred beside me. I was hazily aware of his arm briefly tightening around my waist before disappearing altogether and the fleeting heat of his lips on my hair. He might have murmured something in my ear, but by the time I was coherent enough to open my eyes, he was gone.

When I got up and started getting dressed an hour later, I was still initially startled to see the black hand reflected back at me in the mirror but didn't allow myself to dwell on it. Instead I picked out a shirt with a conservative neckline—which wasn't difficult to find in my closet—and brushed my hair so that it concealed the two fading hickeys from Wednesday night. Not wanting Charlie to question me about it, I decided to remove the bandage Carlisle had placed on my neck where the vampire had wounded me. There was nothing beneath it.

I sighed, tossed the bandage, and made my way downstairs where I could smell something burning in the kitchen. I turned the corner to see Charlie about to stick a knife in the toaster.

"Dad!" I sprung to grab his arm, which earned me a harried stare.

"What?"

"You can't stick something metal into a toaster," I admonished, silently patting myself on the back for making it to him in time while plucking the butter knife from his hand.

"Toast is stuck," he muttered.

"You have to unplug it first, or you could get electrocuted," I explained.

Charlie held up his hands defensively. "I was being careful. Promise." But he abandoned the charred bread I managed to shake loose from the grates in favor of a cup of instant coffee. I went for the trusty box of Cheerios.

We were both settled at the kitchen table for several minutes before Charlie asked, "Did you end up sleeping okay last night?"

I took some extra time chewing a spoonful of processed whole grain to make sure I had my face and voice under control before responding. "Yeah. Whatever medicine Carlisle gave me, must have really wiped me out."

"And you're feeling all right now?" He tipped an eyebrow at me over his coffee mug.

"Yeah, I feel fine." At least I was pretty sure it _looked_ like I felt fine.

Charlie seemed to be considering something.

"What is it, Dad?"

"Well,"—he leaned back in his seat and scratched at his receding hairline—"I got all call yesterday. From a lady named Vanessa Dart. She said she was with some sort of scholarship committee. You ever heard of the Stregheria Institute?"

I shook my head, only mildly more interested in his explanation than in my soggy Cheerios.

"Yeah, me either," he muttered and shrugged. "But apparently it's a small school in Salem, and somehow they got a hold of your scores and school information and they're interested in talking to you."

Massachusetts. All the way across the country from Jacob and everyone here in Forks. "I don't know, Dad…"

"Bella, the only school you've applied to is Peninsula. And that's only because I filled the application out for you."

"What's wrong with Peninsula?" I sulked. "It's close."

"Listen," he said reluctantly, "I know you don't want to leave Jake. I understand that you two are close and that he's been real good for you these last few months."

I stared down at the tabletop waiting.

"But I think you've learned that you can't plan your life around a boy. Not even a kid as a great as Jake."

His words had me squirming uncomfortably in my seat. "I know," I mumbled, because I could hardly defend Edward with the real reason why he'd disappeared from my life. But that didn't mean I had to move to Salem. "But I don't know anything about this place. It could be some hoax."

He shook his head, sitting up a little straighter. "I did some research." At my disbelieving look, he amended, "Well, your mother did some research. Which means she probably had Phil do some fancy stuff with a computer."

They'd done all of this yesterday? "And…"

"It's not a shabby place, Bells. Small, private, lots of old stone buildings, quaint and rustic—your mother's words, not mine. It's a liberal arts school, and tuition runs about $50,000 a year."

My spoon fell from my hand to land in my cereal bowl. Milk splattered everywhere. "Fifty thous—"

"Now wait," Charlie said, "that's one of the reasons she wants to meet with you today after school for an interview. They're considering offering a full scholarship."

"Today?"

"Apparently she was in the state meeting with another candidate. She'll be in town this afternoon."

It was no good. I was cornered. I didn't have a good reason NOT to meet with her, though I was hardly looking forward to it. It all sounded suspicious, and I had a feeling whoever this person was, she was just going to try to sell us something. "Fine. I guess it won't hurt to meet her."

Charlie looked pleased. And there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it." Jumping up from my chair, I ditched by bowl in the sink and hurried to the front door, hoping that it was Jacob with some ridiculous excuse about why he needed to drive me to school.

It wasn't.

"Alice?"

She smiled. "Hey, Bella. You ready to go?"

Charlie appeared over my shoulder looking slightly disgruntled. "You're getting a ride today?"

"I, um…"

"Charlie!" Alice exclaimed, bouncing on her toes. "It's so good to see you. How have you been?"

His lips thinned and then parted, and I prayed that he wouldn't say anything too impolite.

"Alice," he mumbled somewhat unenthusiastically. It was the best I could have hoped for.

Alice smiled as if he'd just told her he'd stuck oil in our backyard. "Bella had to leave her truck at the house last night when Carlisle drove her home, so we just wanted to make sure she had a ride to school this morning."

I looked over her head to see that my truck was indeed gone. And I had no doubt that it was sitting in the Cullen's driveway; an eyesore nestled in Emse's beautiful landscaping.

"We?" Charlie questioned apprehensively.

Slipping past us into the house, Alice effortlessly retrieved my over-stuffed backpack from where it was propped against the hall closet. She danced back outside after snatching my wrist in her free hand, while still managing to somehow wave goodbye at Charlie. "We'll have to catch up later, Charlie. We're running late. Have a great day!"

We left Charlie standing flustered in the doorway. By the time I had my feet working properly beneath me and turned to see where Alice was dragging me, we were coming to a stop beside a shiny, silver Volvo. My chest tightened at the site of it sitting at the bottom of my wet, crumbly driveway.

Alice opened the passenger-side door, and just as I moved to climb into the back, Alice beat me to it, hopping in and pulling the front seat back and locking into place so that I couldn't follow.

I stared at the vacant passenger seat for a full five seconds before hesitantly sliding in. Of course, my eyes immediately went to Edward. Impeccably dressed in charcoal slacks and a deep blue sweater with is bronze hair falling just short of his warm amber eyes, he was as breathtaking as ever. And for whatever reason he didn't seem as tense as he'd been last night. Maybe he'd had time to go hunting?

"Bella?" The lilt of my name in his voice caused me to shiver.

"Yes?"

"Can you close your door, please?"

"Oh, uh…sure." I blushed and fumbled for the handle.

The engine purred to life, and we were off.

Alice talked consistently on our way to school, which I was grateful for. It meant I didn't have to attempt to form any coherent sentences, and all I had to focus on was trying not to breathe too deeply or too often, because each inhale brought me a fresh wave of the Edward's head scent, until I felt like I was drowning in it.

I even managed to ignore the curious glances Edward kept sending my way.

As soon as we were parked I was out the door and into the light drizzle with a surprising display of speed. And yet Edward's ability to get out and all the way around the car just as quickly was that much more impressive. He stopped just inches before me.

"Bella, I wanted to apologize."

Staring up into his downtrodden face, I had to blink the raindrops from my eyes. "For what?"

"Everything," he said fervently, and then seemed to check himself. "But especially for last night."

"Oh." A lot had happened last night.

"You have to understand that I only want what's b—"

"Edward, we have to go, or we'll be late to first period." Alice laid a hand on Edward's arm, and the two shared short, silent exchanged that ended with Edward nodding reluctantly before stepping back.

Alice turned to me. "We'll drive you back to our house after school to pick up your truck. Maybe we can work in those mannies and peddies you promised me?" Her eyes went blank and then she frowned. "Why not?"

I sighed. "I sort of have this meeting with a college representative." I shrugged. "I'm not really sure how long it'll last."

Her eyes went blank again, and when she came out of her vision, the uncharacteristic frown had deepened. "I see you and Charlie sitting in living room, but I don't see…"

"Bella!"

I looked up to see Angela half-walking, half-running toward me. She was smiling widely and her face was flushed. She looked very…lively.

"Hello, Alice," Angela greeted warmly, a gesture Alice returned before saying her goodbyes and taking off after Edward, the spring missing from her step.

Angela looped her arm through mine and started us on a slow round about path to our first class. "There's something I have to tell you," she murmured excitedly.

Her atypical giddiness was infectious and I found myself grinning expectantly. "Okay."

"Well"—she bit her lip—"you know how Ben took me home on Thursday night after the bowling party?"

I did recall Ben offering to drive her home so that she didn't have to stay while her parents cleaned up. "Yes."

Her blush deepened. "Okay, I've just been dying to tell _someone_ because I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't." And then she hesitated.

"Ange," I urged gently.

Taking a deep breath, she cast a conspicuous look around to make sure that we were alone in the parking lot before rushing to say, "BenandIhadsex."

* * *

**AN:** That bit with the ear-licking at the beginning of the chapter is a wink and a smile at Leelator's "How To Seduce a Werewolf," which is an awesome read you should all check out. The quotes were used with permission. Thanks, bb!

P.S. Apparently Bella doesn't have a window facing the backyard in the books, so, um, Jacob built her one. ^_^


	26. Something Wicked

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twenty-six – Something Wicked_

* * *

First period found me and Angela huddled together in the back of the room, texts books open on our desks as we studiously ignored the in-class assignment. After Angela's impromptu confession in the parking school parking lot, we'd had to hurry to beat the bell to our first class. The moment Mr. Barnes had assigned partnered busy work, our heads converged.

"So, you and Ben…" I trailed off, not sure what she was needing from me but wanting to be a good, supportive friend.

She was blushing. "Yeah. It just sort of happened when he took me home. At least, I don't think he'd planned it."

I nodded my agreement. Ben wasn't good with the subtlety that it required to play something like that off as unprepared. "And you look really happy."

She grinned that silly smile like she had in the parking lot. "Yeah. I mean, I'd always planned to wait for marriage. It wasn't a religious decision. It's just that sex is so intimate and you're completely exposing yourself to someone else."

A boy in the row beside us glanced over curiously. Angela cringed and lowered her voice.

"I never imagined feeling secure enough to take that risk with another person who wasn't someone I planned to spend the rest of my life with." She bit her lip. "But I really love Ben, and he's never once left me feeling vulnerable."

"Wow, Ange, that's—"

She laid a concerned hand on my forearm. "You don't…think less of me, do you? For…you know."

"Oh, no, of course not," I rushed to reassure her. "I think it's great that you and Ben have such a strong relationship. And actually…." I hesitated, not sure if I was really comfortable divulging the intimate details of my own personal life. But a glance at Angela's hopeful face and I was decided. "Actually, Jacob and I did too. Last night. For the first time."

"No way!"

_Everyone _turned and looked at us. I ducked beneath a curtain of hair.

"Is there a problem, Ms. Webster?"

"No, Mr. Barnes, we were just disagreeing over the answer to number six. Sorry to interrupt."

"Indoor voices."

Once all the students had turned back to their own business, Angela, hit me with a wide-eyed look that had my face heating in record time. "You two really hadn't had sex before?"

I peeked out from hair in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Angela turned her attention to the untouched assignment on her desk. "It's just that you two seemed very…comfy together."

"Comfy?"

She nodded and began carefully writing down an answer to the first problem. "Yeah. Touchy, feely. You know, you looked really comfortable together." She shrugged and glanced up. "And happy."

I didn't understand what she was getting at. "We are. But Jacob and I have always been like that. Even before."

She smiled at problem number two like it'd just given her a puppy.

After first period, the remaining school day was as tedious as ever. The only noteworthy change being when Edward and Alice came to sit with us at lunch. Jessica accepted them openly, more than pleased to have new fodder for the rumor mill. Everyone else, however, was eyeing me carefully, looking to see how I'd react to the development. Mike in particular looked ready to shun them the moment I gave the indication they weren't welcomed.

When I smiled at Alice and asked how her morning classes went, there was a silent, collective sigh of relief and the conversation levels swelled to normal.

At the end of the day my truck was sitting in the parking lot. Alice looked put out.

"Edward made me bring it back," she grumbled, "because you have that meeting."

I didn't ask when she'd had the time to go and get it.

"But we can still spend time together tomorrow. We can't take you outside of Forks, so shopping will have to wait until Victoria's been taken care of. Why don't I come over and do a closet inventory? And we can finally get in those manicures."

"Just say yes." Edward's voice washed over my ear, causing my next breath to catch. "You know how relentless she is."

I turned, startled by his close proximity and even more surprised to see a small smile make an appearance. I'd nearly forgotten how beautiful his smile was.

"Sure, Alice. You can come over tomorrow."

"Excellent." She grinned while bouncing on her toes. "I've missed spending time with you."

I nodded, enjoying her enthusiasm despite the fact that I would spend most of tomorrow hearing her lecture me on the pitiful state of my out of season clothes. "In the afternoon, all right? Some of us do sleep."

She rolled her eyes and turned to Edward. "I'll see you at home."

I watched on in confusion as she skipped over to his Volvo and got in the driver's side door. Edward remained standing at my side. "Are you going somewhere?" I asked.

"I would like to accompany you home. None of the wolves are on patrol there currently, so I hope you don't mind me sticking close by. For your safety."

He watched me expectantly and I really had no choice but to accept. He would follow me even if I didn't offer him a ride. "Sure, but I'm driving."

I caught his smirk before I turned on my heel and headed for my trusty truck.

Edward didn't make any comments about my cautious driving on the way home. I even lowered my speed to 10 MPH below the posted limit just to goad him. He didn't even roll his eyes. I, on the other hand, kept glancing over at his distant expression every few seconds.

Once we arrived at the house I dumped my bag by the front door and—not sure whether or not Edward would follow—headed to the kitchen. Standing at the sink, I poured myself a glass of water, noted that there were quite a few dishes that needed to be washed, and turned around to see that Edward had indeed accompanied me inside.

So this wasn't a simple babysitting assignment.

The sight of Edward sitting in my shabby kitchen had always been unsettling; his ethereal beauty out of place against the background of faded, yellow cabinets and a refrigerator that had seen its heydays in the late 80s. But just then, seeing him perched formally in the same chair I had occupied that morning filled me with unnamable relief.

He was really here.

And he was watching me intently. In complete silence

I blushed, and hurried to gather my thoughts. In my haste I spewed the first question that came to mind. "At school, when you said you were sorry, what did you really mean?"

I cringed at my complete lack of tact.

Edward cast a remorseful look down at the linoleum floor. "I shouldn't have raised my voice at you last night. To say that I was…disturbed by what has happened to you would be an understatement. But that's no excuse for losing my temper." Tentatively he lifted his face, and he looked so solemn and serious that I felt myself being taken back to that afternoon months ago in the woods, when he'd looked at me that way before walking away forever—or what I'd thought would be forever.

"I forgive you," I shakily managed to murmur and then quickly added, "for not believing me. It's true, you know. That vampire in the woods died after drinking my blood." When Edward said nothing, my frustration resurfaced. "I _saw_ him, Edward. He turned to dust. I…I've never seen anything like it." But that didn't mean much, did it? I was eighteen. Edward was over a hundred years old.

"We'll stop it, Bella."

"Stop _what_?"

He met my eyes with steely determination. "We'll stop whatever it is that's doing this to you. Another vampire most likely. Possibly a coven."

I was shaking my head before he'd even stopped talking. "I really don't think a vampire would give me a tattoo."

But he wasn't as convinced. "We don't know what Victoria's plans are beyond that she creating a following of newborns in Seattle with the purpose of getting to you, through a pack of wolves and our coven if necessary. I highly doubt that there are any lengths to which she is not willing to go to accomplish that end." His voice remained even but I could see the gathering darkness in his eyes. "Perhaps the mark is a means by which to track you. Our kind posses a wide array of talents."

I hadn't thought of that possibility. Felicity had kept referring to someone, a man. Could she have been referring to a vampire? Had she been trying to warn me about this?

My gut told me 'no'. There were too many holes. Like why would a vampire who wanted me dead try to save me from Leah? Why would he get close enough to 'mark' me, but not take me back to Victoria? "It doesn't add up."

"We'll see."

I decided to abandon my attempt to persuade him otherwise. For the moment. I knew that he wouldn't budge on something once he was resolved not to. It was his nature to bend but not break. Or, that was what I'd always thought. But perhaps the fact that he was sitting in my kitchen was proof enough against the assumption.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bella?"

"Why,"—I kept my gaze firmly glued to the cup clutched in my hands—"did you come back? If you thought being separated was better for me, why come back?"

He spoke slowly and concisely as if he were reading the lines from a cue card. "I wanted you to have a safe, human life away from the dangers of our kind. The dangers _I_ had brought upon you. There was too much I couldn't give you and too much I could take away."

We both knew that wasn't an answer.

"And now?" I whispered.

He went stiff in the chair, his back straight and his jaw set as he mechanically angled his head to peer out the window. The movement of his lips was hardly discernable as he whispered, "I'm incredibly selfish, Bella."

I turned quickly towards the counter to hide my wide eye and trembling hands. The cup dropped into the sink.

Edward had come back for me. He wanted…

What did he want? He'd said that he loved me, and, whether it was because I was delusional or because I was saner now than ever before, I believed him. He'd left in a foolish attempt to protect me—or to protect himself—but what caused him to change his mind? What force had been strong enough to move the most obdurate boy?

"Why?" I asked, my back to him. "Why did you come back?"

"I need you, Bella," he said frankly. "I need you in my life. Of course, at the time I rationalized that I was only coming back to ensure that you were safe, and that you were happy. It was partly true of course, and when I returned to discover you in the midst of young werewolves and at the top of Victoria's agenda, I…" Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. "I felt justified. I felt like you truly needed me."

The sadness in his smile brought me physical pain, and I looked down to see my hand subconsciously rubbing at the skin above my heart.

"But then I met Jacob," he continued. "And I saw what he felt for you, and the love that you had shown him. He wants your happiness as much as Charlie does." He looked at me from beneath long, copper lashes. "And yet I tell myself that I'm better for you. That I'm actually the safer choice." He sounded disgusted with himself. "And it's because I _am_ selfish, Bella. You are my world, me reason for existence, and it was so hard to give you up the first time, that I'm not sure if I can stand to walk away again. I'm nothing without you."

Hearing him say those things in that moment, touched something inside of me that I hadn't known existed—something Jacob had planted months ago and had been carefully tending ever since. And I realized the undeniable truth.

"I love you."

The light that entered his eyes was beautiful. And yet he hesitated. "Still? After everything?"

I nodded. "I will always love you. I don't know how to stop, and even if I did, I don't think I would want to." Being so close to him with his cool breath brushing my face—calling me back to entire evenings we'd spent on my bed, completely wrapped up in one another, when the tenor of his voice was the richest, most pleasant sound I'd ever heard—was nearly overwhelming.

And it almost made me stop. Because the thought of giving that up—forever this time—left me feeling empty. But then I remembered the last time I'd felt this way, and I remembered who had taught me to feel whole again—and I _was_ whole again.

Reaching out, I took one of Edward's hands between my own, making sure to keep his gaze firmly locked with mine as I said, "You will always have a place in my heart, Edward. But you aren't the only one there anymore."

His eye dropped to the floor. His lips dimmed into a frown. "Jacob."

"Yes." Jacob was a large part of it. In more ways than one. "I gave the rest of my heart to him while you were gone. And he…"—I sighed and shook my head in wonder—"…he did something pretty amazing with it."

Tentatively, Edward raised his face. He gazed at my small smile like a man approaching an oasis after spending days trekking through a barren desert. "Tell me," he pleaded.

And I understood what he wanted, what Edward had _always_ wanted from me: my happiness.

"Well, it started with a couple of motorcycles…"

And I told him. Everything.

He was bewildered—and more than a little upset—when I told him how many injuries I'd accumulated during my cyclist stint and the various other risk-taking behaviors I'd partaken in during his absence. And when I told him that I did it all to hear his voice, I saw the silent understanding, but I didn't press.

I talked honestly about how deeply I'd been hurt by his absence and how every afternoon in Jacob's garage found me yearning just a little bit more for something more than nightmare-plagued sleep and painful waking hours. Edward grew grim.

So I told him how Jacob can always make me laugh.

When discussing the past few months, it was impossible not to mention the pack. And though Edward frowned at the mention of Leah's name, he didn't comment. I acknowledged the concession by admitting that while I saw a part of myself in her and in her situation, I could never hate him the way Leah had come to hate Sam. Love and hate would always keep separate company for me.

"I could never hate you, Edward," I admitted, looking at him from across the table, where he'd gestured for me to sit shortly after I'd started talking.

"You should," he said earnestly, bitterly. "After what I put you through. You shouldn't love me at all."

I shook my head. "You can't say one person shouldn't love another," I quoted.

It earned a sad smile from Edward. "And who told you that?"

"Jacob."

He blinked once in surprise. Then he nodded slowly. "He…is very perceptive. Not unlike you."

I nodded. "He sees me in ways, I think, I've never been seen before. And he makes me see myself differently."

It was subtle, the change, something I only noticed whenever I held Jacob's hand and felt perfectly adequate.

"He can give you things that I can't," Edward said quietly. "He _has_ given you things that I could never…"

"Please don't do that," I pleaded, seeing the sacrifice in his eyes. "Don't try to rationalize my choices and make try to make the decisions for me. That's…that's what you did when you left, and look at what it did."

His mouth snapped shut at he looked away, and I could see him trying to gather himself, trying to find that slippery grip on his own self-worth. I knew the struggle. It had taken weeks of patience on Jacob's part for me to learn just the right way to keep a hold of it without crushing it or allowing it to slip through my fingers. Pride was an elusive thing.

Unfolding my hand from my lap, I laid my arm on top of the table, palm up in silent invitation. It was several moments before Edward turned his head to look at me, and then even more stretched by before his eyes lowered to my up-turned hand. His right arm twitched, and Edward seemed to glance at it in reprimand.

I began counting the 18 seconds it took for his smooth, white fist to appear on the table top, the 13.5 seconds it took for it to slide across the finished wood, the 6 seconds it took for his hand to uncurl, and the 3 seconds it took for his fingertips to graze mine.

"Breathe, Bella."

I inhaled deeply as our hands slid together, and feeling my warm, pliable hand wrapped around his cool, solid was like stepping back into my favorite pair of sneakers that had been lost for months beneath my bed. Seeing the ease with which we fit back together made me smile.

Chancing a glance at Edward's face, I noted his serene expression of awe as he stared down at our interlocked hands. His eyes slipped closed as I squeezed his fingers lightly.

"I have to go."

My heart lurched. "Oh."

Reluctantly I began to withdraw my hand, but Edward tightened his hold before I could pull away. He looked at me meaningfully. "Charlie's almost home."

Letting out a quick sigh, I nodded in understanding, and he released me after a final, reassuring squeeze of his hand.

"Jacob will be here shortly," he said as he fluidly rose from the kitchen chair.

"You talked to Jacob?" I asked, incredulous.

Edward nodded briskly. "I needed to inform him that we would be taking you home from school. And I requested that I be allowed some time alone with you so that we could finish our discussion from last night. He agreed." His lips twitched into a faint smile. "In so many words."

I could only image what Jacob's _exact_ words had been.

"He's very protective of you," Edward mused. "That's a good thing. If he weren't, I'd be a little more selfish."

The sound of the front door opening drew my attention to the hallway, and I when I turned back, Edward was gone. I shook my head.

Super speedy vampires.

"Bells?"

"In the kitchen, Dad," I called out. I jumped up and walked to the sink to pretend I'd been doing dishes.

He walked in the kitchen, and I could tell from the slight flush of his face that he was flustered. "That, um, lady from Massachusetts is going to be here soon."

I nodded even though I'd nearly forgotten.

"Do you think I should…change or something?"

He'd come home early from the station so he was still wearing his work clothes, a dark uniform complete with the standard cop utility belt. "You look fine. Though the gun might make her a little nervous."

"Right." He took the belt off and hung it on the wall in the hallway. He still looked frazzled.

"Hey, Dad, why don't you go tidy up the living room? We'll probably talk in there."

"Oh, good idea," he mumbled and took off.

As ridiculous as it may have seemed to me, I had to remind myself that this was very important to Charlie. He saw this as an opportunity. _My_ opportunity. I didn't have the heart to tell him that something that sounded too good to be true, probably _was_ too good to be true.

As I stood at the sink, immersed in thoughts about my conversation with Edward, I absently went through the motions of washing, rinsing and drying the dishes. Thinking back, the whole conversation felt so surreal. Hearing Edward, of all people, talk about my boyfriend—who wasn't him—was bizarre. It only further defined the space that had grown between us. And yet, when he'd touched my hand, it was the closest I'd felt to him since he'd left.

I flexed my fingers as the tingled at the memory.

A knock sounded from the front door.

"Got it," Charlie announced, and I saw the deep breath he snuck in before twisting the doorknob.

I picked up a clean dishtowel to dry my hands.

"Hello."

"Hello, I'm Vanessa Dart."

"Ms. Dart"—I could hear Charlie's nod of acknowledgment—"I'm Charlie Swan. We talked on the phone yesterday."

"Yes, of course. It's a pleasure to be able to meet you in person. But, please, call me Vanessa."

"Ah, yes, well, come on in."

Not sure what to do with myself, I stood in limbo at the entrance to the kitchen, running a hand through my messy hair as Charlie stepped back out of the way to let the woman in.

She wasn't what I'd expected. I'd been expecting middle-aged, slightly overweight, foundation-masked, and wearing a phony smile beneath suspiciously neat hair.

I was right about the hair.

But everything else was so far off mark that I was slightly taken aback. Even in her intimidatingly high, black heels, she was only maybe two inches taller I was, but she was so slender that it gave the impression she was towering over me as she approached in her well-tailored charcoal suit.

There was a conservativeness to her movements. She took small, slow steps and moved her head and shoulders with purpose. That undeniable grace coupled with the placidity of her smooth, olive-toned complexion gave her the appearance of a queen. Her cheekbones were high and regal beneath her eyes, which were bright and moved with the same sense of purpose as the rest of her body. She smiled like a patient, benevolent mother. "Hello, Isabella."

I somehow resisted the sudden urge to hug her and extended a hesitant hand instead. "Hi."

She grasped it firmly in her own and leaned in closer. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you."

I blushed at her sincerity. "Finally?"

"Yes." She straightened and released my hand. "But why don't we get more comfortable before discussing that. I have a lot to say." Her genuine smile let me know that it would be all good things, and I felt guilty for ever being suspicious of her motives.

I led the way to the living room and took seat on the sofa, Vanessa settling elegantly on the opposite end. Charlie, I noted, had outdone himself with the tidying up, and I could actually see the entire expanse of the coffee table for the first time since I'd moved here. I surreptitiously glanced around to see if I could tell where he'd stuck the pile of Sports Illustrated.

Charlie shuffled awkwardly in front of us. "Can I get you something to drink, Vanessa? Water, juice, coffee…"

"Coffee would be lovely, thank you. Black."

"Anything for you, Bells?"

"No. Thanks."

Charlie disappeared, leaving me alone with Vanessa, who watched me silently for several moments before asking, "So, have you given much thought to what you would like to do once you graduate?"

"No, not really," I admitted reluctantly. "I think I want to do something with literature, and I've been accepted at the Peninsula College, but…"

"But it's not the place for you," she finished knowingly. "You were meant for more than that."

I shrugged noncommittally. I didn't even know whether or not I was meant to live past graduation.

"Your father knows that you're meant for more than that. _I _know that you're meant for more than that. All that's left is for you to realize it's true, Isabella."

Her earnest tone discomforted me. "Actually, I think I'd like to stay close to Forks for school."

Vanessa nodded slowly as if she'd anticipated such a desire. "That's one of the reasons why I think Stregheria will be such a good fit for you. We have a small satellite campus just outside of Olympia."

"Really?" Charlie re-entered the room with a steaming mug in each hand. He placed one down on the table in front of Vanessa and kept the other for himself as he settled on the edge of his armchair.

"Yes," Vanessa smiled, "this coming fall will actually be the first year of classes. We're very excited to be operating on the West Coast after the immense success we experienced in Massachusetts."

What success she was talking about, I had no idea. And I was still confused as to why she was here talking to me in the first place. Was it normal for schools to recruit like this? Charlie seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"From what I've read about the school, it sounds really promising, but I have to ask…"—he took a short draw from the mug—"how was it you came to be so interested in Bella? Did she fill something out, or did one of the school counselors contact you…"

"No, not quite." She refolded her hands on top of her crossed legs. "We rely a lot on our alumni to make suggestions regarding prospective students, whom we strive to stay in touch with after graduation. We consider them family. At Stregheria we have a very intimate approach to learning. We have about 120 graduates every year with a 99.5 percent graduation rate. The average class size is 5. Isabella will be receiving a personal, top-of-the-line education from some of the world's leading minds. Guest-lecturing is something we are very proud advocates of. Last year, former President Jimmy Carter actually came to Salem to speak with the students there."

If Charlie noticed her subtle move to redirect the conversation, he didn't show it. He was relaxed back in his chair, nodding his approval.

"We're a liberal arts school by trade," Vanessa continued, "but our professors are willing to accommodate any academic pursuit our students are passionate about. Guided independent study allows for our faculty to work one-on-one with students to promote a personalized form of education so that his or her full potential is realized." She turned to me with an encouraging smile. "We have a very strong English Department faculty that would be happy to help you find just what it is you hope to garner from higher education."

Just what was I supposed to say to all of _that_? "Um, that's…"

She sighed and clapped her hands together. "Oh, good. Now, Isabella why don't we begin discussing the reason why I'm really here."

I blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I could go on and on about a school that doesn't exist, or I could get to the point." She nodded towards Charlie. "Now that we're alone."

I followed her gaze to see Charlie sound asleep in the armchair.

I blushed vibrantly. "Oh, sorry. He, uh…must have had a really hard day at work. He's the chief of police. Not that that Forks really gets much in the way of crime," I rambled, mortified that my father had passed out in the middle of a conversation.

"But it does get much in the way of the supernatural, doesn't it? Vampires in particular."

I went very, very still.

She continued on casually. "It's the climate I imagine. The cloud cover coupled with the dense woods does wonders for extending their hunting hours."

I stared at her. She blinked innocently, clearly waiting for some sort of response. Nausea gripped me.

"Vampires?" I croaked, completely butchering my attempt to sound uncomprehending.

"Yes. Like the coven living not far from here."

"I don't…"

"Don't worry, Isabella,"—she leaned forward to touch my knee comfortingly—"I understand what it feels like to keep a secret. Secrets are important."

My eyes went from her small hand on my leg to Charlie, who had started to snore lightly.

"You can speak freely," she reassured me. "He won't wake up."

I shot to my feet. "What do you mean he won't wake up?"

I hurried to Charlie's side and anxiously pressed two fingers to his neck. There was a slow, steady pulse.

"He'll be perfectly fine when he wakes up in an hour."

I scowled at her small, lithe form relaxed on my sofa. "Who are you? What did you do to him?" I demanded. I could feel my heart accelerating in my chest. "Did Victoria send you?"

This woman wasn't a vampire. But maybe—somehow—Victoria had decided that a human would be the best way to get to her, now that the Cullens and the Pack were working tirelessly to keep Forks and La Push secure from vampires. They would never expect Victoria to turn to _humans_ to get the job done.

"The only Victoria I've ever known personally died in 1901. And I wasn't fond enough of _Her Highness_ to grant any favors," she sniffed. "Although, she did spend decades starving millions of helpless people, so the time until our next meeting is not likely indefinite."

My hands clenched into fists at my side. "What do you want? How do you know about…?" The word stuck on the tip of my tongue, refusing to be spoken in the presence of a complete stranger.

"Isabella, vampires are only the beginning. We"—she gestured to herself and then to me—"are their end."

Slowly she stood. The muscles in my legs tensed in anticipation.

But she didn't step closer. She raised her hands to the buttons of her suit jacket and began to smoothly undo them one at a time. "What I want is to help you better understand what has been happening to you these past couple days. I'm sure you have questions. Questions that the vampires cannot answer?"

As she slipped the jacket from her arms, I knew what was coming. Without even _seeing_ it, I know what was there. Something inside me recognized her for what she was.

Vanessa peeling away the sleeveless shirt from her left shoulder was only a confirmation of an undeniable truth.

She was damned just like me.

* * *

**AN: **Thanks for the patience, ladies and gents. School has been...stressful. Midterms are out to destroy my soul. But to make up for the long wait, I promise to have the next chapter posted by Wednesday.

Things are going to get pretty complicated in the next couple of chapters. Stick with it though, and I'll clarify things if you have questions that won't eventually be answered in the story.


	27. History

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twenty-seven – History_

* * *

The hand was smooth, black, and well-defined; an exact replicate of the mark on my own shoulder. But there was something about seeing it on someone else—seeing it on _Vanessa_—that soothed some small measure of the anxiety that had been eating away at me for the last few days. The way she wore it…as if it were a symbol of her faith, a medal proclaiming her accomplishments, or a family crest. While there was a fear that gripped me whenever I considered the mark for too long or allowed my eyes to linger in the mirror, Vanessa showed no such trepidation. There was only pride.

"Where did you get that?" I murmured. I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

"My father." She didn't say "father" the way others would, either fondly or resentfully, but with detached respect as if it were a revered title of some great man, someone known but not known. "I believe your father gave you one as well."

Reflexively, my hand rose to my shoulder, where I imagined I could feel the gentle heat of the mark even through the fabric of my shirt. I managed to tear my eyes away from her long enough to glance doubtfully at Charlie's slack face. "Charlie had nothing to do with this. He doesn't even know about it or the—anything."

With a small tilt of her head, Vanessa gave that small, secret smile that slowed her racing heart and melted some of the ice in her veins. "Not all gifts are given consciously. In fact, the greatest ones usually aren't." She waved an elegant hand invitingly as she reclaimed her seat on the sofa. When I didn't budge, she raised an eyebrow and chuckled warmly. "Come here, Isabella, so we can talk properly. You look frightened half to death."

"But Charlie—"

"Will wake up completely unharmed once the sleeping draught has worn off," she assured me earnestly.

Sleeping draught?

Charlie's cup was almost full save for the couple of sips I'd witnessed him taking. Vanessa's mug, however, remained completely untouched. But she couldn't have possibly…

She been sitting with me the entire time.

"How did you—"

"How did you escape death? How do your dreams seem to bleed into reality? How is it that you've come to run with familiars? Who is Felicity? What's inside that book the vampire gave you? Why are you marked? Who is He? What is your purpose on this Earth? Are you really damned?" She leaned forward, capturing my rapt attention with her dark, knowing eyes and the answers they promised. "How is it you_ know_ you can trust me when we've only just met?"

My lips moved, and the words came unwittingly, "It's not about trusting; it's about protecting."

Vanessa paused and then nodded. "Felicity knew that lesson well. I'm not surprised that she's already passed it onto you."

Tentatively my feet urged me forward until I was standing before the couch at the opposite end from Vanessa. My eyes kept falling to the mark on her pale, olive-toned skin, which was partially obscured by the sleeveless blouse she wore. It really did look just like mine, like Felicity's. I sank stiffly onto the cushions.

"You know her?"

Vanessa effortlessly shifted back into her conversational position from earlier, all grace and encouragement as she explained, "I knew Felicity, yes. Such an elegant woman. Powerful, too. Always had very powerful revelations, which is why I'm not surprised you've been in contact with her already." Her fond smile gave way slightly. "She died several years ago, I'm afraid."

Even though I had already assumed as much from the dreams and my own conversations with Felicity, hearing the words aloud caused my stomach to ache with grief. And for her to die like _that_…burned to death in front of a crowd of people.

"Wait." I said. "You knew Felicity? Not just in your dreams, but actually _knew_ her?" She nodded affirmatively. I shook my head. "But she died…a really long time ago."

"In 1709. She was 121-years-old if I'm recalling correctly." She laced her hands together over her knee with a heavy sigh. "She was so young. Many of us who died then were."

"That means you're…"

"Very old," she finished.

Old. Old like Carlisle. And like the rest of the Cullens. "But you're not a vampire."

The sharp, startling laugh that erupted from Vanessa was the first unrefined gesture she'd made since her arrival. "No, I'm most certainly not." She looked amused.

"Then what are you?"

Slowly the joy from her smile faded until it was held up only by grim determination and decades of experience. "The truth, Isabella, is not some glamorous thing. There are no mythical creatures in my story, only people who lived and died. They're no different from you in that they once loved and hated. They had families who adored them, and enemies who despised them. So, you see, it is not only the despised who die or the adored who flourish. Fairytales are written by authors. History is written by murderers." She was watching me softly. "Do you understand, Isabella?"

Whatever she was going to tell me—whatever explanation she was going to give—didn't have a happy ending. I wasn't going to like what I was about to hear. But when I looked at Vanessa, all I saw were the answers that no one else could give me. And there was something about her that made me _hope_ for the first time in months.

"I want to know."

She held out her hand. "I never said you had a choice."

I stared at her unwavering upturned palm. Were we going somewhere?

Charlie was still asleep in the recliner, snoozing quietly, but for how long? And when Edward had left, he'd said Jacob was on his way. If he saw Vanessa's car in the driveway, he'd probably wait outside, but if it were gone, and _I _was gone when he came to the door…

Well, I couldn't imagine that going over very well.

And yet, I _needed_ to know what she had to tell me. If she left now, would she come back?

Nervously, I contemplated the outcome of Jacob and Vanessa meeting. While she seemed to know something about vampires, she hadn't mentioned or even hinted at being familiar with werewolves. But if she did recognize Jacob for what he was, and she considered him an enemy or a threat, would there be a confrontation?

It was true that Vanessa's didn't appear very threatening in a physical sense, but there was something about the way she moved, the way she lifted her head and opened her mouth, that oozed controlled power. And if she was as old as she claimed to be, there surely there had to be more to her than what was obvious.

"Isabella?"

I blinked and refocused. "Sorry. It's just that…I'm expecting someone, so I'm not sure that I should leave."

Her proffered hand didn't move. "Are you referring to the familiar in the woods outside?"

"I don't…"

"Of course not." She shook her head. "How silly of me. I imagine they consider themselves shape shifters or wolves or something along those lines."

"So, you do know about werewolves then?" I questioned tentatively, feeling like the worst secret-keeper in the world.

"Werewolves?" This seemed to entertain her a great deal, as she smiled and raised her eyebrows. "The Quileutes really consider themselves _werewolves_?"

I remained cautiously silent.

"Imagine," she said, "werewolves in North America. Leopold would be thrilled." After quietly considering it a moment longer, she chuckled. "All right then. The _werewolf_ outside."

"He's here?" I moved to stand, but the unexpected touch of Vanessa's hand on my forearm kept me rooted to the couch.

"He arrived eleven minutes ago. And I believe he's running the perimeter." She gave me a reassuring squeeze. "We should have plenty of time."

"For what?"

"For me to show you what you are."

* * *

I was dreaming.

I was dreaming one of _those_ dreams.

My vision was too precise for the dark hour of night, colors—browns, blacks, greens, reds, and yellows—fell in sharp contrast before my eyes, the sound of water dripping down through the canopy of trees was rang clear, dull notes in my ears, and the heat pouring from Vanessa's body warmed my own.

I scanned the dank, surrounding forest for Felicity's bright presence. But there was only rain, mud, and towering trees. We were alone.

Despite her dark suit, I could make out Vanessa's collected figure perfectly in the darkness. "Where are we?"

"Just outside of Thessalonica, a city in the Illyricum province of the Roman Empire, which is currently under the rule of Emperor Septimius Severus."

I racked my brain for any knowledge I had regarding Ancient Rome, but all I kept picturing was a bloodied Russell Crow standing bitterly in an arena of sand, a scenario which I vaguely recognized as a scene from some action movie Phil had been atypically enthusiastic about seeing in theaters. When had _that_ been set?

"It's about a decade after Gladiator, but I would be remiss not to ask you to recognize all of the movie's fictional inaccuracies."

"How did you—"

"Look, Isabella,"—she pointed to off to the right—"through there."

Slightly hunched and swaddled in a thick cloak, a solitary figure appeared from between two trees, moving leisurely over root and dirt as he kept up a near constant stream of mutterings in a language I had never heard before.

"What is he saying?"

Vanessa's dark eyes followed the man's progress as he wandered closer to where we stood, her face still and intent, steeped with grim inevitability. This was not just any cold night and this was not just any man.

Vanessa watched and watched, and just when I couldn't stand the silence a moment longer, her lips slowly parted and formed soft words. "He speaks of worldly things. Of humanity's nature and the duty man has not only to God, but to each other. He believes that if man were to give himself over to his true nature, he would discover his purpose on this Earth. And that purpose is to perpetuate meaningful life."

The man stopped, pushed back the hood of his cloak and raised his face to greet the rain.

"Who is he?"

"His name was Varius."

A wisp of movement, and then there were four of us. He was silent and beautiful this newcomer. No coat, no cloud of breath, no concern for the weather beating down on his finely made clothes. He opened his mouth and crooned a silky song of syllables and silence that was both terrifying and alluring.

I didn't need to touch his skin to know that it would be cold and impermeable. I gasped and then immediately clapped a hand over my traitorous mouth. But the vampire didn't turn his rapt attention from Varius, who was wide-eyed and frozen, completely tight-lipped as the newcomer closed in on him.

"They can't hear us at all?" I whispered hoarsely to Vanessa without pulling my eyes away from the scene before us.

"Shadows and echoes, Isabella," she murmured, and I knew she was just as captivated as I was, just as transported.

The vampire continued talking in sighs and quiet laughter as he appreciatively fingered the man's soaked robe. Slowly, casually he trailed his white hand over the shoulder and down the length of the sleeve. But when he reached Varius's trembling hand, all pretenses of charm vanished, as he hastily grasped it to his chest, head bowed in a move I was certain signaled a death strike to the wrist.

And then his crimson eyes fell closed, and he became completely motionless.

Varius struggled uselessly in the vampire's grasp. He grunted and panted harsh-sounding words, but his resistance was given no heed. The vampire remained still, face frozen in concentration. I squinted, trying to see something that my perfect vision was missing, and I leaned closer in an attempt to catch whatever sound his vampire senses were picking up.

But all I heard was the rain slowing to a drizzle.

"What is he—"

Laughter—loud and trilling—burst unexpectedly from the dark vampire, his head snapping up to reveal crinkled, red eyes. This time as the strange language spilled, it was quicker and more disjointed, a mocking tone made even more patronizing by the way he ran his fingers along Varius's exposed wrist, as if he were calming a startled horse.

The words kept coming and coming, as the man kept shrinking and shrinking away, until finally the vampire seemed to have convinced himself of something vital, and all amusement was overtaken with barely contained anticipation. It was the way James had watched me in the ballet studio, the same arrogance with which the young vampire in the woods had approached me so daringly. It was the knowledge all vampires had that they were in fact vampires and their prey was only human.

With a hand clamped around Varius's jaw, the vampire turned his head away until his neck lay bare and vulnerable to the fading drops of rain, the lingering chill of the air, and the set of sharp, venom-tipped teeth that slid into the skin like a shadow cutting through sunlight.

Varius screamed.

My hand leapt up to my smooth neck, traced the phantasm of a bite mark, and then balled into a fist. There was nothing I could do but watch as desperate hands clutched at the steel bands of arms that pinned him to an obdurate chest. As the draining dragged on, the man's movements become feeble and his voiced sluggish, until he stopped moving all together. It was at that point the vampire tore his face away, dribbles of blood scaling the side of his chin as he allowed the body to drop to the mud.

Pale hands trembled and a pained, feral expression contorted the vampire's face. For several moments I couldn't understand _why_ he looked so burdened—so dissatisfied—when there was a corpse lying at his feet, a testament to his satiated lust.

But then Varius's arm twitched. A soft moan oozed from his lungs.

The vampire pulled a handkerchief from inside his belt and carefully mopped the blood from his lips. After refolding the dark square and tucking it away, he begrudgingly eyed the crumpled figure on the ground with mild resentment, spoke a few slow words, and bent down.

In a flash, he'd removed the sodden cloak from Varius's shoulders and replaced it upon his own. He stood and turned with a small whirl so that he was facing me and Vanessa head on, and I was faced with a memory I couldn't quite place. A picture of a majestic man in robes, skin pale and eyes shining with murder.

* * *

The return to the waking world is so abrupt and jarring, that it takes several moments of my blinking at the far wall of the living room to comprehend that I'd made the transition all. It takes even longer to realize that Vanessa is not sitting by my side, but suspended mid air by the massive hand wrapped around her throat.

"Jacob!"

But his eyes are narrowed and his lips are curled in near snarl as he brings Vanessa's face scant inches from his own. "What did you do to them?"

Vanessa didn't struggle against him and didn't appear frightened as she managed to choke out, "Th-they're fine. Both of them."

"Jacob, please!" I tugged on his taut bicep, watching in alarm as Vanessa's face began changing violent colors. "She's here to help."

"Help?" he growled incredulously. "I walk in here to find Charlie passed out and you in some sort of trance with her breathing down your neck, and that's being helpful?"

"I know it's confusing, and I don't really understand it all yet, but she _knows_ things, Jake. And she says she's willing to give us some answers." Reaching up, I brushed the hair from his eyes, silently urging him to look at me. He did so reluctantly. "Please."

Jacob hesitated, sighed, and then dropped her.

Vanessa was able to land agilely in her heels, and the few moments it took for her to regain her breath and composure Jacob used to take my hand and navigate us backward toward Charlie. I squeezed his hand in an attempt to soothe him, but the gesture seemed swallowed by the tension in his body as he stared Vanessa down. "Who are you?"

"Vanessa Dart," she answered politely, although the warmth she used when addressing me was decidedly absent. "And you must be Jacob…the _werewolf_."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to help Isabella. She's gone through a drastic alteration, and she'll need my guidance to understand what has happened to her and what that means about what will happen next," she said evenly.

Jacob didn't back down from his defensive stance. "Are you going to tell me what you are, or not?

Vanessa blinked. "I'm a witch."

I couldn't keep my own bewilderment at bay. "A witch?"

"Yes." She sighed. "Although this is hardly the manner in which I like to reveal such things."

Next to me Jacob relaxed and chuckled derisively. "A witch. Right." Then he turned to me. "You attract the crazies. You know that, don't you?"

I shook my head. "She's not crazy." And then I thought better of it and amended, "Or, at least, I don't think she is. Somehow she knows about the Cullens and about you. She even knows about the dreams and Felicity. And when you got here, she was showing me something from the past, a memory or a dream. But it was like I was standing _right_ there while it was happening. That's not normal, Jake."

"But a _witch_? Come on, Bells." He cocked an eye brow at Vanessa. "And I suppose you've got a sparkler in your back pocket that you like to wave around."

She closed her eyes briefly as if summoning her patience. "I'm a witch, Jacob, not a magician."

"Oh. So that was _your_ broomstick parked in the driveway. Four doors and automatic windows. Just like the one I have at home." And before Vanessa could interject, he stepped forward, fists clenched at his sides. "What did Victoria promise you?"

Head tilted thoughtfully to one side, she said, "That's the second time you've mentioned this Victoria. Who is she?"

Jacob scoffed, but I quickly moved to his side, touching his hand to the small of his back. "Victoria is a vampire who's been trying to kill me for the last several weeks. She keeps making runs into Forks and La Push, but we think she's working from Seattle."

"The vampire recklessly siring newborns," she murmured thoughtfully.

I gaped. "Yes, but how…"

"I knew it," Jacob muttered darkly. "What did she send you here to do? What were you doing to Bella when I got here? Because if you've hurt her in _any_ way, I promise I'll—"

"I'm beginning to find your baseless accusations very wearing, Jacob." She moved to sit delicately on the couch, slowly leaning back against the cushions with a raised chin. "And, quite honestly, it's offensive that you assume me so low and dissolute as to conspire and assist vampires. From what I've gathered over the last twenty-four hours, I understand that that is actually _your_ prerogative. Not mine."

Jacob's eyes darkened, his expression going flat.

Vanessa continued on casually, traces of challenge lining her innocent words. "That's very unusual. A creature whose sole purpose is to destroy vampires working alongside an entire coven of them." She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "I imagine it must be difficult to resist your very nature in such a capacity. To be…leashed."

Lips thinned tightly together, he met her gaze evenly. "Almost as difficult as resisting the urge to toss you through that closed window."

"Jacob," I hissed, but Vanessa's sharp laugh drowned it out.

"Oh, Isabella," she chuckled, "I approve." Seeing our uncomprehending expressions, she shook her head, eyes crinkled in mirth. "He's sturdy. It's hard to find sturdy men anymore."

Jacob gave me a pointed look and I could only shrug. Just because I trusted her, didn't mean I understood her any.

"Look," Jacob ground out, his patience clearly worn through. "If you don't know Victoria, how do you know about the vampires in Seattle? And what are you _really_ doing here?"

There was a beat of amused, contemplative silence from Vanessa before she ventured a response. "Leopold is in Seattle keeping an eye on things, tracking their numbers and movement."

"And Leopold is a wizard, right?" Jacob asked dryly.

"Not at all. He's a warlock."

"Ah."

"And I've already told you that I'm here to assist Isabella."

"You mentioned that. But we're still waiting on the 'how' part"

Vanessa shook her head, donning a more sober composure. "The 'how' will mean nothing until you understand the 'why.' Trust me on that at least."

"Trust you? I don't think—"

"Jacob." I stepped between them, my arms going around Jacob's body until my head rested on the warm skin of his chest. Jacob understood touches more than anything. "Please, give her a chance. What if she can explain what's happening to me? What if she can actually help us figure this out? We've kind of run out of options."

His hands found my back naturally, and the reluctance was plain in his face as he peered down at me. "Bells, we don't know anything about this person, and you want to put all your faith in what she has to say?"

"No, but I want to at least hear her out."

"I don't know. Maybe we should wait…"

"Jacob, she's staying," I said decisively. "And I'd really like for you to stay too. But only if you want to."

Of course I didn't doubt for a moment that he would stay. Jacob wouldn't even see it as having a choice, but I didn't feel guilty for giving the ultimatum. This wasn't something I could afford to be cautious about anymore.

His shoulders sagged in resignation.

Vanessa gestured to space remaining on the couch. "Why don't you have a seat."

Jacob, not looking at all pleased, settled on the far end, one arm draped over the back of the couch so that he was angled toward Vanessa's small form. I glanced at him, her, and then at the open space between them before sliding onto Jacob's lap, my back pressed to his chest. His arm curled around my waist, and I felt just a little more certain of myself.

"Now," Vanessa began, adopting the warm, informative tone she'd used while talking to me and Charlie about the school, "usually I would do this by directly sharing my memories with you, as I did earlier, but that's not something I can do if you wish for Jacob to be included as well."

"You've done this before?" I asked, not certain what she was implying.

She gave a small smile. "Not in a while."

I pushed the vague statement away to consider later. "So what I saw earlier…you were actually there? That's _your_ memory?"

"It is my memory," she confirmed, "but it's one that was given to me by someone else. It was revealed to me in a dream when I was very young. Just twenty-three years old. You have dreams that you shouldn't, don' you, Isabella?"

Yes.

"Wait." Jacob's voice rumbled against my back, his breath fanning past my ear. "You don't look a day over twenty-five." He paused in consideration as Vanessa nodded. And when he spoke again, it was with loath acceptance. "So how old are you really?"

"I'm 1,293-years-old this July."

I shouldn't have been surprised with all the improbable things I'd witnessed the last few days, but it had always been difficult to comprehend that Carlise had been walking the earth for over 300 years; to meet someone over 1,000 years old was difficult to even acknowledge.

"And you're not shitting us," Jacob muttered with a sigh, "are you?"

"No. I'm not." She refocused on me. "That man from the memory I showed you was _Aulus Varius Nerva_. He was born in 174 AD and was a sort of philosopher while he was still human. He had a great deal of faith in humanity and in true human nature. He was 28 when a vampire came across him in the woods that night.

"I imagine that you're already aware that some vampires possess certain unique talents such as abnormal intuition or supernatural manipulative abilities. These gifts are remnants of their human lives, characteristics that are preserved during the change. There's not an exact science to it, but it's happened enough that it can't be dismissed as coincidence."

I nodded. Carlisle had the same assumptions.

"The vampire who found Varius is exceptionally talented. With a single touch he's able to hear every thought a person has ever had. "

Behind me, Jacob let out a low whistle, and I silently agreed. Edward struggled with hearing just the voices running through the heads of the people around them, but to hear every thought that's ever run through someone's head in a single instant…even for a vampire it had to be overwhelming.

"He saw inside Varius's mind such a passionate love for the human race, such hopes for what we could accomplish. He also saw an incredibly bright mind. Whether it was to spite Varius's ideals or to create a worthy companion it's not certain, be he did turn him that night. But what Aro did not anticipate—"

_Aro._

"—was just how much of himself Varius would take into his second life. Varius had often preached that giving over to one's nature was the only way to discover one's true purpose. As a vampire, especially as a newborn, Varius had no restraint. He simply didn't believe in it. But the vampire world has strict laws, ones that demand caution. Aro is an enforcer of these ancient rules, and after several indiscretions—and despite their decades of companionship—he and his brothers demanded Varius's destruction."

_The Volturi._

"But, you see, Varius was very gifted."

"How?" I asked anxiously.

"Varius's faith in humanity had been so great that it followed him into death."

Frowning at Vanesssa, I admitted, "I don't understand."

"Varius was able to take on a human form even after he was changed into a vampire. The physical transition he could make from vampire to human and back again was a skill he devoted a great deal of time to honing, having had Aro's encouragement during their years together."

"A vampire who could turn into a human at will?" Jacob asked dubiously.

Vanessa nodded.

"But why wouldn't he just stay as a human if he cared about humanity so much?" I wondered.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Vanessa answered, "You have to understand that once he became a vampire he was no longer human. Even if he could take on a human form—even though he could breath, eat, sleep, walk in the sun, and hear his beating heart—Varius still possessed the soul of a vampire. That's a nature that can't be easily denied."

Souls. Vanessa believed that vampires had _souls_. A smile broke out across my face.

"And even if he'd wanted to, Varius would have been unable to remain in a purely human form. While vampires do not suffer from physical maladies and weaknesses as we do, they're not actually dead; they still require energy just like any other living thing in order to function properly. For Varius to maintain in his human form or remain functioning in _any_ capacity, he needed blood. And he actually used his talent as way of acquiring it. He was his own breed of hunter. As you know human senses are much duller than those of a vampire. Without the scent of blood or the sound of thudding hearts to test his restraint, he could easily move in and around large crowds of humans. Without red eyes and cold skin, he could more easily gain their trust while simultaneously forgoing notice. And without fear of the sun he could easily walk down the street at high noon and lure unsuspecting girls into dark allies.

"It was this gift that allowed him to so easily escape Aro's execution orders. Very quickly Aro's greatest achievement became his greatest liability."

"What happened to him?"

"He found himself spending more and more time in a human form in an effort to stay several steps ahead of the vampire, and"—her small, melancholic smile from earlier returned—"he fell in love with a woman."

* * *

**AN:** More explanation to come next time, I promise. How are you feeling about Vanessa? She's kinda out there, but I've always had a soft spot for the kooky.

I can't remember if I've done this in a previous chapter, but I would like to take a moment to thank and recognize my beta latetolove who has worked so hard getting these chapters up to snuff and typo-free. (If anyone here reads the Stephanie Plum books, you would check out her fanfic Scent of a Woman. Great stuff.)


	28. His Hand

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twenty-eight – His Hand_

**AN: The following chapter contains a fictional exploration of certain religious symbols, practices, and scripture. These fantastical alterations do not reflect my personal beliefs, and nor are they an attempt to explain any elements that could possibly pertain to real life. Although I write about vampires, werewolves, witches, and their history in this fictional story, it does not mean I intend for the content to be applied to the nonfictional world. The witches in this story are not representative of the followers of the Wiccan beliefs and traditions. No offense was intended.**

* * *

"The year was 712 and Varius was living in what is today the country of Romania. It was a bold decision on his part in that it was so close to modern day Italy, where the Volturi had been living for the past several hundred years at that point. But it was a rather brilliant choice of location as it placed him within very close proximity with another old and powerful vampire coven, one that had deep roots in the Transylvania—or Dacia—region. Aro would not be so impudent as to search too closely, and the Volturi did not possess the…_talent_ for finding people then that they do today.

"By day he was a man who contributed to the nomadic tribe that had reluctantly accepted him, and by night he was a vampire who traveled great distances in order to hunt discretely. It was a way of life that Varius very much resented. By ordering his destruction, Aro accomplished what he had originally begged of his comrade: control. Varius was forced to engage the people he surrounded himself with on a human level. He lacked the modern conveniences that allow for vampires, such as the ones you are friendly toward, to live amongst humans and yet remain apart. There were no great, gated houses to hide in, no internet or books to keep the mind occupied, and no phone or mail service to contact anyone besides those you came into physical contact to. The people in these communities were very much dependent on one another for survival, and if Varius had any wish maintain a human façade, he had no choice but to participate.

"With nothing but the struggles of daily human life to occupy his decidedly inhuman mind, it's not much of a surprise that he searched for something more. Adaptation is not a finely honed skill for most vampires. They tend to resist change in any form it takes, but when something does shift, it's never half-hearted and it's rarely without permanence. So when he found himself submitting further and further to the limitations of such a society and its orthodoxies and nuances, he began submitting his superiority. He did not find the latent humanity in himself, but in a young woman named Domnica.

"She was twenty-two and unmarried, condition enough to be considered well on her way to spinsterhood. But Varius's position in the tribe as an outsider, who had no kinsmen to vouch for him, was not elevated much beyond hers. I won't linger on the details of their courtship any longer than to say that it was rather unconventional and not entirely approved of by the others in the community. However, they did ultimately marry.

"While Varius had not been present in the tribe long enough for his lack of ageing to cause concern, some of his less…human habits began stirring rumors; his red eyes not being the least conspicuous trait.

"So although Varius was able to retain his human form in public and to a certain extent in front of his wife, the suspicions regarding his peculiar nature and habits continued to mount. Until one day suspicions became accusations, and accusations became condemnations. While Varius himself was much too daunting a man to approach so critically, Domnica unfortunately was not. The people had begun to realize that there would be times when Varius would disappear for an entire day and that he was not in fact ill and resting as Domnica would claim. This occurred whenever the tribe traveled too far a distance from other communities or lingered so long in one place that he was at risk of exposing himself if he were to continue overhunting the same neighboring communities week after week. Varius would have to travel great distances in order to find sustenance in a manner that would not tip off the Volturi or the Romanians to his whereabouts. As a result, day trips were sometimes necessary. These excursions doubled as a way for him to…'let off some steam' so to speak. Playing human in such a scrutinized capacity can be tolling, and taking the occasional time off to turn himself over to his true nature helped him to maintain his façade.

"It was on one of these days that a large number of worked up and frightened people approached Domnica while she was alone. That morning a man had mysteriously turned up dead with no injury but a strange scar on his wrist, a scar that resembled the teeth marks of a large human. They accused Varius of eating his soul.

"Domnica was considered guilty by association as she must have either been a willing accomplice or had been seduced by his dark magic. But she had no idea what she was married too. It's true that she knew something wasn't right, that her husband had secrets he refused to share even with her, the woman he loved, but she couldn't provide answers to satisfy the mob. She had no explanations to assuage their fear. So they decided to burn her.

"It was midday. The sun was shining. And everyone had gathered to watch the cursed woman die, to watch their ignorance and odium burn until their fear was nothing more substantial than the wisps of black smoke dissipating into the sky. They smiled at her then. At her obvious humanity and at their own for what they were doing.

"Varius returned then, just after they had set the wood alight. But he was trapped, you see. Not by the humans, who were at that point inconsequential, but by what he was and what he wasn't. He understood the risk of returning to his vampire form in order to save her. It would mean exposing himself to over a hundred people whom he would be forced to kill, a slaughtering which would not only expose his dark nature to Domnica but would most certainly reveal him to both the Romanians and the Volturi. It would mean certain death for his human wife.

"And so he scaled the burning pyre as a human. He freed her, wrapped her in his cloak, and carried her back down with the flames eating away at his skin, the eyes of the people boring into his humanity. He collapsed then, upon the ground, his wife lying only a few feet away trying to expel the smoke from her lungs. His own wounds were severe enough that his human body was overwhelmed and began shifting back to his vampire self without his consent.

"Varius resisted the change. He watched on in fear as his fingertips began to harden and pale, turning dead and impermeable. And as the transformation crept along his hands, the light began catching his skin, slowly condemning both him and everyone who played witness. Varius looked to Domnica, who had one hand pressed to her rounded stomach and the other stretched before her, reaching for her fading husband. Varius smiled, slipped the hunting knife from his belt, and forced it through his beating heart.

"I don't know what your beliefs—or lack of beliefs—are in regard to the soul and the purpose it serves. But what's imperative for you to understand is its transition from the physical world to the spiritual one. There are three ultimate destinations for souls once they lose the corporeal bond that ties them here. Call them what you like; the upper, middle, and lower plane. Or Paradise, Purgatory, and Hell. Souls are judged based on the life they lead here on earth and then given passage to one of the three domains. Each domain has a keeper in charge of mediating the activity within their boundaries, deciding when souls are ready to re-enter the life cycle. Titles are inconsequential, and each keeper is known by many names, but we most often refer to the warden of the lower plane as the Devil, Satan, or simply Him. He…reconditions those souls which are darkened with the stains of their sin. Of the three keepers, He is the most proud, the most vain. He has acquired the vices of the very souls that he keeps.

"Vampires' souls, while buried and altered by their transformations, pass on to the afterlife just as the human soul does. But they are sent to the middle plane, which acts as a sort of Purgatory. It restores the humanity to the soul so that it is then fit to be judged and appropriated to its rightful domain. But Varius was a unique case. He had the soul of a vampire, yes, but even nature can be deceived. Whether it was the manner in which he died or the unprecedented amount of humanity preserved by his change, Varius passed not to middle plane, but was judged directly and delegated to the lower one.

"Satan, of course, was furious at what he perceived to be a severe slight. As a spirit who prides himself in the relentless and unforgiving purification of the souls he is bestowed, he was beyond insulted that His dominion would be tainted with a defaced, incomplete soul that he is powerless to cleanse and that is incapable of being resubmitted to the life cycle. Spirits don't appreciate being rendered powerless before their own subjects.

"But the Devil is a cunning one. He sees the good in every bad and slinks through the fine lines beneath every impossibility regarding the rules of the natural world. A keeper's power is intended to end with the boundaries of his domain. His influence over a soul lasts only as long as it exists within his plane. Because the soul is in constant motion and Hell is only a transitory state, Satan's influence is powerful but impermanent. Or, at least, it should be.

"Varius' unique case offered Him a very terrible opportunity. One that He grasped with both hands as a chance to seek retribution for the vampire's presence. With Varius permanently in his custody, he was able to take advantage of the bond that exists through descendent souls. When someone is born they are gifted with a soul, and that soul is linked in a small way with the souls of the parents. This connection is one of the reasons why humans put so much stock in family and the importance of blood bonds. It's not a social dynamic that shared DNA alone can account for. He was able to…_touch_ Varius's soul in way that touched the soul after him, the one of his unborn daughter. And because Varius would never be leaving the lower plain, He knew that he could continue to use Varius as an unwavering connection to the physical world. And so every generation is ruthlessly bound to Him.

"It's often referred to as "the Devil's mark," which is the visible manifestation on your shoulder, Isabella. But I'm sure you've noticed that a tattoo is the least of all the changes you've experienced recently. Do you know what entertains Satan? Suffering. And do you know how He purifies the souls that are sent to him? By making them suffer their wrongs, by restoring the balance. When He touched Varius's soul that day, he laid a curse on all those who came after him. Every soul of every descendent would be condemned to the lower plane no matter how virtuous the life they led on Earth. This would continue until Varius's offspring destroyed as many vampires as Varius had humans.

"But collecting more souls was not His only objective. His one source of amusement and distraction is the suffering he can elicit from his subjects. Varius provided him an entire new level at which to carry out these manipulations. Satan fancied himself a puppet master with Varius' soul the indestructible strings. Not only did he curse Varius' descendents with an afterlife in Hell, but he gave them feeble powers to use against vampire kind. Not enough power or skill that we would risk direct confrontation with one but just enough to provide us a small, almost imperceptible sliver of hope that we could someday achieve such lofty conditions for our release. It gives us a reason to try. And He watches as we struggle and perish in pursuit of that goal, amused at our ineffectiveness."

Unable to contain the urge to interrupt any longer, I spoke up when Vanessa paused for a breath. "What do you mean 'he gave you powers?' What powers? Why would he do that?"

She eyed me levelly. "Because—to put it in a not-so-delicate fashion—He is a sick, smug bastard who has nothing better to do with his time than to tempt and degrade any soul he can get his incorporeal hands on." She delicately pulled aside the material of her blouse to once again reveal the hideous black mark. "Like yours and mine."

Jacob's muttered curse burned my ear.

Vanessa tipped her head in agreement. "Holy fuck indeed, Mr. Black."

I understood the implication and had to discreetly wipe the sweat from my palms onto the material of Jacob's pants beneath my trembling hands. "So, then, that mark…It means you're one of Varius's descendents."

"Yes, Isabella."

"And so was Felicity."

"Yes."

"And me."

"I'm afraid so."

"I'm going to go to Hell." The words felt vague and tasted surreal on my tongue. The afterlife was not something I had ever put much contemplation into before recently. While growing up Renee had dragged me to a number of churches, a few temples, and one or two spiritual councilors. I had garnered the basics of faith, what its purpose was and how it was used. A desire to end up in heaven after I died was an aspiration that Renee had never bothered to formally encourage. Instead it was an ambition I picked up from hearing other kids argue about it over the top of a dead bird on the playground, from watching sentimental movies, and from loitering by the casket at my Gram's showing. It became another thing to expect from life. Do well in school. Get a career. Fall in love. Get married. Grow old. Go to heaven.

No one ever talked about Hell. I had never given it any consideration beyond coming to the conclusions that its main function was to frighten people into organized religion and that Edward didn't belong there. And I had never heard it described in the way Vanessa had discussed it. She claimed the Devil purified the souls through suffering. Could souls even feel pain?

"That doesn't have to be the case," she assured me. "The hope is still there, Isabella. There exists a legitimate possibility that one day we could destroy so many vampires. I'm not saying that it will be any time soon, but over the past thousand years we've made decent headway at—"

"How?" I asked, at a complete loss as to what threat the petite, well manicured woman sitting before of me could ever pose against the raw power and deadly instincts of vampire. "How do you do it?"

"Our blood," she answered. "It's lethal to any vampire who consumes it."

_Kneeling just a short distance from where I had collapsed was the vampire, face shoved to the ground as he convulsed, alarming, high-pitched screeches of distress pouring from his lips alongside escaping dribbles of my blood…_

"Our blood calls to the foreign human blood inside of them. Their latest meal."

"_It's strange. I fed only hours ago, but the _smell_…It's like I can already taste it."_

"Once they drink, it acts corrosively, breaking down their bodies from the inside. They're dead within a minute."

_And the cracks continued to spread. Down his neck, beneath the collar of his shirt, over his exposed forearms. When it reached his fingers, the digits fell like rocks to the dirt where they crumpled into ash like the mauled ground._

"Dust," I muttered, fighting off a shiver and the gruesome memory. "They turn into dust."

Vanessa was surprised. "So that was you in the woods? When I came across the vampire remains the other day, I assumed another witch had been passing through, possibly one curious about your aura." She smiled like a proud mother. "It seems I was incorrect."

"I didn't mean to kill him," I said quickly. "He just bit me and collapsed. I didn't want to kill _anybody_."

"Isabella, you did nothing wrong. He was a monster who was trying to hurt you." She leaned forward as if to touch my leg, but Jacob's hand shot out to catch her delicate wrist midair. Her eyes snapped to his over my shoulder.

"I could break this very, very easily."

She frowned and withdrew her hand. "I mean her no harm."

"Yeah, you keep saying that, but all you've told us so far is that she's damned. And that she should _literally_ risk her neck to kill vampires because Satan got bored of torturing people in Hell some thousand years ago. We're still waiting for you to get around to the "helpful" part of your visit."

Some of the warmth seeped from her face as she offered a tight nod. "Isabella, you are a witch. You hail from a bloodline that reaches back to a very dangerous and very gifted vampire, who was cursed by the Devil's own hand. Unless you desire for you, your father and all of your potential offspring to be condemned to Hell, then you will come with me now to learn how to control and strengthen your abilities so that you may hunt and destroy vampires with as little risk to yourself as possible."

"Leave with you? I can't…"

"You don't have to go anywhere, Bells." The growl had returned to Jacob's voice, and he gently pushed me to my feet so that he could stand. "I think it's time for you to leave. You got your chance to talk."

But Vanessa didn't move save to lift her head in our direction. "It would be in Bella's best interest to come with me, Jacob. It's too dangerous here. If this 'Victoria' in Seattle truly is after Bella, then the safest thing to do is to put thousands of miles between her and the twenty newborn vampires bent on killing her."

Jacob's eyes narrowed. "And you think you can protect her better than the pack? What's your master plan for when Victoria gets wise and comes after you? You slit your wrists and wave 'em around as Bella runs in the other direction?"

"Of course not. We have other means of evasion."

And then in the space between an exhale and an inhale, the living room fell away, and wet wind was sweeping hair across my face. I turned in a circle, blinking at the woods and a lake that surrounded us on either side. A light spattering of rain fell from the cloud-dampened sky, and the nearby call of birds rang clearly through the evening air.

Jacob's mouth fell open. "How did you…"

Hands folded behind her back, Vanessa gave a small shrug. "I've been alive for over a thousand years and enjoy a supernatural connection to a spiritual plane. I've learned a few things."

That caught my attention. "And all witches can do that? Can disappear and reappear somewhere else?"

"We all possess the potential, yes, but it took me nearly 400 years to master planesbending myself and even longer to planesbend other people."

Jacob caught my eye. I knew he was wondering the same thing I was.

"What is it?" Vanessa asked, warily watching the silent exchange.

"I've done that before."

"Done what?"

I gestured around to the isolated wilderness that had previously been the boring beige walls of my living room. "The teleporting, or 'planesbending' thing. But it was just an accident."

She looked to the ground and chuckled softly. "That's impossible."

Arms crossed over his chest, Jacob frowned. "Wow, she's like a magic eight ball: obnoxious and inaccurate. You think if I shake her, she'll give us a different answer?"

"You don't understand," Vanessa sighed in frustration. "You don't just _accidentally_ bend the walls between spiritual planes in order to instantly teleport from one location to another. It takes raw power and focus. For witches, power comes with age and understanding. And planesbending is never an accident."

"But I have done it," I insisted. "A few times when I was in danger it just happened. I was in one place and then suddenly I was in another. First when I got attacked by a…wolf, and then again when I first woke up with this mark on my shoulder and—"

Vanessa took a careful step forward, hands still behind her back and eyes alit with intrigue. "You planesbent? Before your transformation even took place?"

I nodded.

She looked to Jacob. "And there were witnesses?"

"Eight of them."

She fell silent.

The placidity of the lake was disturbed by the splash of a large fish, briefly drawing my attention to the sizeable expanse of water. I wondered if this was one of the places Charlie frequented with Billy for their fishing expeditions.

My hand jumped to Jacob's forearm. "Charlie."

"You worried he might wake up?"

Shaking my head, I asked Vanessa, "What about Charlie? You said that the bloodline passes through him, so that would mean he's a warlock, right?"

She seemed reluctant to leave her internal musings to answer my question. "It used to be that way, yes, until a small faction of witches and warlocks found a way to suppress the change in males." She dismissed the discussion with a shake of her head. "It's politics that you shouldn't concern yourself with at the moment. Just know that it's been a few hundred years since the last warlock awoke."

"Awoke? Do you mean when they get the mark?"

"Yes."

"And what causes a witch to 'wake up?' Why did it happen to me a few days ago?"

"A witch awakens when she loses the physical sign of her purity and innocence: her virginity. Once that is gone there is nothing to stand in the way of His intentions."

Oh. I blushed and avoided looking at Jacob, focusing instead on Vanessa's thoughtful expression.

"Isabella, were there any other unusual occurrences you experienced prior to your awakening, aside from the planesbending and the dreams with Felicity?"

Would she consider falling in love with one 107-year-old boy, getting blackmailed and attacked by a sadistic vampire, falling in love with a werewolf, and then being stalked and hunted by yet another vampire to be unusual? Something told me 'no.'

"I guess I don't really know. A lot has happened over the past year, and most of it was things I didn't even know _could_ happen before I moved to Forks."

"What about visions? Did you ever see something that you couldn't logically explain? It could've been unclear images or voices that appeared in the form of dreams or hallucinations. Maybe they showed you things you shouldn't have known."

"I…" I didn't want to admit to it. Not here in front of Jacob. Because I knew it would hurt him no matter how I explained it. But if I wanted explanations, I couldn't afford to keep secrets. "There was a short time when I was hearing voices," I admitted quietly.

I could _feel_ Jacob watching me in anticipation. His arm was tense under my hand.

Vanessa remained outwardly calm but there was an eager edge to her voice. "What kind of voices? Could you understand what they were saying?"

I nodded. "It was one voice. Edward's. And, yes, I could hear him perfectly."

Wetting my lips, I finally met Jacob's eyes. His brow was tensed in confusion and my fingers ached to sooth it away.

"Edward…is one of the vampires that live here?"

"Yes. Except he and his family left for a while last year. And whenever I did something dangerous or reckless, I could hear his voice warning me not to. Sometimes he would beg and sometimes he would yell. But it always sounded just like Edward."

"Anything else?"

"There were dreams. I don't remember them well now, but in one of them I saw Jacob as a wolf before I knew what he really was, and then in another I saw a woman getting that mark on her face. They were both vague, though."

Vanessa looked to the lake and I could tell she was trying to conceal a smile. Her body appeared to hum with approval.

"Do you ever sense people, Isabella?" The wind carried her hushed voice to my ears. "Do certain people make you feel a certain way? Say, like a werewolf?"

…_The iciness of her skin caused me to flinch away, and as a result her hand fell limply back to the mattress with a quiet thump…_

…_I absently reached my fingers up to rub at the skin where Jacob's trembling hands had grasped my shoulders just moments before. I couldn't help but silently wonder at how the pale flesh was suddenly ice-cold to the touch…_

…_The words died on my lips as my shocked fingers flinched away from her skin; she was as cold as ice. As cold as…_

…_The wolves moved silently through the trees...the air whipping across my face and the contraction and release of Jacob's powerful muscles beneath me. And then there was that eerie coolness that continued to seep into my skin…_

"Yes."

Vanessa nodded, released her clasped hands to her sides, and squared her shoulders so that she was facing us head on. "Isabella. Jacob. I would very much like for you both to accompany me to Italy."

* * *

AN: I hope this answered some of the questions you've been holding onto. I suspect that it also created some new one. Ask away. I'll answer what I can, but if it's something I think will be be answered later in the story, my lips will be sealed. ;)

For those of you interested, I posted a Jacob/Bella one-shot a few days ago called **Broken Lies the Road**. It's a little diddy of J/B sexytimes I wrote for a friend. Nothing too impressive, but it's there.


	29. Offer

**Zenith**

_Chapter Twenty-nine – Offer_

* * *

"Italy?" I had never even left the continental United States, and she wanted me to cross the Atlantic because she asked nicely. "Why Italy?"

"Because it's the safest place to be when a rogue vampire is after you. The Volturi won't stand for her behavior much longer. She's too great a risk."

But I didn't need to contemplate the offer. Forks was my home. My _family_ was here. And as long as Victoria was killing people in an effort to get to me, I was staying. "I won't run."

Vanessa looked grim. "Isabella, you and I are powerless against the number of vampires gathered in Seattle. Once they see what our blood does to one of them, they wouldn't hesitate to kill us. Our gifts are subtle and must be used selectively and covertly. An open confrontation would only guarantee the vampire's success."

"How many witches and warlocks are there? If we all went to Seattle now, couldn't we—"

"I'm afraid not. I would be surprised if the Volturi are'nt already monitoring the situation there. If we bring all of the remaining witches to Seattle, Aro won't hesitate to take the chance to organize a mass slaughtering. And the stage is too public. Most vampires are oblivious to our existence because that's the way Aro wants it for the time being. But how would he explain the disappearance of some two dozen new born vampires? The last thing we need is further suspicion."

I wanted to argue. I wanted her to understand that if Victoria were to bring 20 newborns to Forks, people—people that I deeply cared about—were going to die. And I would do _anything_ not to see that happen. But as much as I was willing to risk for their safety, I knew I couldn't expect her—a mere stranger—to feel the same way. I didn't have the right to ask any more people to risk their lives for my cause. "I understand if you don't want to stay and help. This isn't your fight. But I'm still not going with you." I leaned into Jacob's side. "My place is here."

Vanessa's lips thinned into a disapproving line. "I must ask you to reconsider. Think not only of yourself, but of Charlie and hundreds of other innocent lives that are relying on us to settle Varius's debt. You're the first female descendent to be born in over 100 years, and you're already exhibiting more power than some witches manage to accumulate over their entire lives. You needlessly dying here is only condemning them to further suffering."

Jacob's arm slipped over my shoulder, bathing me in heat. Briefly I closed my eyes, drawing strength from the sensation of just being able to touch him. The reassuring play of his fingers along my shoulder—along _that_ shoulder—matched the resolve in his voice when he said, "She's not going to die. The pack can handle anything the redhead throws at us."

"Perhaps," Vanessa murmured with quiet shrug. "Perhaps not."

"Between us and the Cullens—"

"You would put your faith in vampires?" she cut in mercilessly, her calm veneer cracked. She eyed him in blatant disbelief. "You would put her life in their hands?"

"The Cullens aren't like other vampires," I scrambled to explain, anxiously noting Jacob's murderous expression. "They strictly drink from animals and would never hurt anyone."

"Yes, I know. Otherwise you and one of them would be dead. There's no humanity in them for you to attract, and that only makes them even more unpredictable."

I shook my head against Jacob's chest. "They're good people. If you met them you would understand."

"They're not pe—"

I gasped, jumping slightly when out of nowhere a man appeared at Vanessa's side. Tall and broad with short, dark hair and a tan complexion, he was a striking contrast to Vanessa's smaller, more delicate frame. The fitted dark-washed jeans and simple blue t-shirt clinging to his chest only accentuated their differences. Sharp brown eyes set in an impassive face skimmed over my frame before sliding to Jacob and repeating the blatant appraisal.

Like Vanessa his movements were careful and calculated, but where she was fluid, he was rigid. And though they both possessed a commanding presence, this man looked decidedly more threatening.

Jacob's grip on me tightened.

"This is the girl." He spoke in an unhurried, monotonic voice.

Vanessa nodded. "Leopold this is Isabella." Her smile made a salient return. "She's very special."

He didn't spare me another glance, but peered impassively to Jacob. "This is her familiar?"

"No. Jacob here is actually a product of Camilla's dabbling. The establishment of a semi permanent stronghold by a coven in the area seems to have awakened the previously dormant shifting ability. Camilla may have been insane but no one can claim she wasn't inventive."

Leopold's eyes narrowed. "Should I annihilate him?"

I looked to Vanessa in alarm, but she chuckled as if he'd told a very clever joke. "No, that will be completely unnecessary. And such a waste of a sturdy man." She winked without actually _winking_.

I scowled, pouring every ounce of intimidation I owned into staring Vanessa down. "Who is Camilla and why would Jacob be familiar to her? And what does that have to do with Jacob getting _annihilated_. I thought you were only after vampires."

She raised a placating hand. "Camilla was one my great granddaughters. She found a way to manipulate the planes in a manner that allowed her to infuse animal spirits with the human soul. As a result, a group of humans were born with the ability to change into enhanced animal forms. These individuals—which she termed "familiars"—were imbued with a loyalty to Camilla, which she exploited to have them hunt down vampires. Her intentions may have been noble, but her methods were unacceptable. There's nothing subtle about a pack of giant wolves loping through the western United States. Things got out of hand, and when she refused to help put an end to it, she had to be stopped. Jacob is a descendent of Camilla's original pack, and apparently the wolf spirit has not waned. That's what you sense, Bella, when you touch them, the residue of Camilla's power. It's more potent when they're shifted, or close to it. " As an afterthought, she turned to Leopold and said, "We should stop by Garrisa to see Akeyo and make certain there haven't been any unusual leopard sightings."

"They're crazy," Jacob muttered. "Batshit crazy."

"Jacob we're only explaining the truth so that you can try to understand the gravity of the situation."

"I think I know the history of my own people," he disagreed. "And it doesn't include a witch using us as supernatural test subjects."

Vanessa shook her head. "You know only what you were told by those who came before you. But having knowledge does not guarantee having truth."

Jacob's lips curled. "Inaccurate magic eight ball by day, lame fortune cookie by night. And for her next trick: the cootie catcher."

Leopold watched Jacob with intent impassiveness. "Should I cut off his thumbs?"

"No!" I huffed leaning forward from Jacob's side. "No you may not. And it's incredibly rude to go around asking to annihilate people or cut off their limbs. That's not a normal thing to do when you meet someone for the first time, and it's really not winning you any points."

Leopold didn't even blink, but I refused to back down under his stoic stare, as unnerving as it might have been. His entire person screamed danger; from his dark, unflinching eyes to the ready stillness of his towering stature. I recalled how silently and gracefully he had appeared from nothing more than air and had no trouble imagining just how deadly he could be.

Eventually he looked to Vanessa. "What about _her_ thumbs?"

Jacob growled and moved menacingly forward until he was in front of Leopold, their similar heights bringing them nearly nose-to-nose. "Touch her and you'll wish your thumbs were the only things I'd ripped off."

At their side, Vanessa began speaking in a low, quick language I didn't recognize, and yet it tugged on something in the back of my mind. She said only a few things before falling silent, but Leopold seemed to get the message and stepped back, his gaze reluctantly moving from Jacob's face to the middle distance.

"You have to excuse Leopold," Vanessa said while laying a hand on Jacob's trembling arm. "People make him nauseous."

Jacob glared and shrugged off her touch. "Are you done?"

"Are you coming with us?"

His eyes met mine over his shoulder, questioning.

As much as I wanted to sit down with Vanessa and ask the dozens of questions that had run through my mind in the last hour, I couldn't rationalize the desire as an excuse to fly across the world for some for some undisclosed amount of time with a person whom I hardly knew. I wouldn't be alone. Jacob would come with me if I asked him to. He would leave behind the pack and Billy and all his obligations if he thought it was what I wanted. The decision would be a purely selfish one. To leave and take Jacob with me. I could turn my back on school, Charlie, the pack, the Cullens, and the threat of Victoria.

I would have Jacob, but it would mean losing nearly everything else.

"You won't stay here," I presumed wearily.

"No," she answered grimly. "This is not a fight we can win."

_This is not a fight you can win._

"Bells, if you—"

"Thank you for the offer, Vanessa," I forced out before Jacob could say anything that would change my mind. "And for coming all the way here to explain…everything. But I can't come with you. There are people here that I care about and I won't leave them to fight my battles for me."

Jacob nodded his head in understanding—agreement?—and returned to my side. Together we faced a resigned Vanessa an indifferent Leopold.

"I cannot say that I support your decision to remain here," Vanessa said evenly, effortlessly reassembling the professional exterior she'd demonstrated at our initial introduction, "but I do accept it."

Leopold bent to the ground, where I hadn't even realized Vanessa's suitcase was sitting, and used a large hand to smoothly pluck a familiar object from inside.

"How did you get that?" I demanded, more surprised than outraged to see the package Carlisle had entrusted me with.

Vanessa accepted the small, rectangular parcel with a small smile. "I told you I've been here for the last couple days." She began carefully unwrapping the luxurious red fabric. "And this particular book puts off an energy signature too unique for me to overlook."

With the cloth folded aside, Vanessa delicately lifted a small, but thickly bound book between her hands. The cover was a faded, black leather, aged with creases and worn patches suggesting extensive use. There was no writing on the front or along the spine.

"What is it?"

"A journal. This one," she murmured, running her fingers over the soft cover, "is about 600 years old. But it's been kept in good condition. I'm curious as to where you found something so precious."

I didn't see the harm in telling her truth. "Carlisle. He said he thought I might know something about it."

"One of the vampires." She didn't sound surprised and continued to delicately turn the journal over in her hands, looking as if she wanted to open it but not daring to lift the cover. "He was correct. It was written by a witch so that it may only be used by another witch or warlock."

"So, what? It's like a spell book or something?" Jacob asked.

"You'll find that while some of the mythology surrounding witchcraft is adapted from us and some of our terms we adapt from the mythology, the majority of it is false or taken from other mystical practices." She sighed at our looks of incomprehension. "It's just a diary, Jacob."

"Whose is it?" I was worried that she was going to take it, and I would have to tell Carlisle I had lost his rare, 600-year-old journal to a 1,293-year-old witch. It was hard to imagine anyone taking that sort of news well.

But Vanessa didn't hesitate to hold it out to me. "Now I believe it's yours."

When I stepped forward to accept it, Jacob moved with me, his hand on the small of my back. I thought he was nervous Vanessa would try to spirit me away, and after everything I had witnessed, I didn't think his concern was misplaced.

"You mustn't try to read it, Isabella," she cautioned once the book was in my hands. "You must try to _understand_ it. It's the language that's important, not the words."

I nodded even though I had no idea what she meant.

When Vanessa caught my eyes, I felt as if she really could see through to my soul. "You are a witch, Isabella. It isn't something you can choose not to be. Regardless of what course you take, there is a debt you'll have to pay when that course ends." She slipped a small ivory business card from the pocket of her suit and placed in my free hand.

_Stregheria Institute_

_Salem, MA ~ Olympia, WA_

_Vanessa Dart, Dean of Admissions_

An email address and telephone number were printed across the bottom.

She offered one last warm smile. "Give me a call when you're ready. We have time." Then she directed a short nod toward Leopold, who tensed as if preparing to…

"Wait!" I called out before they could disappear.

Vanessa raised an eyebrow at me.

I bit anxiously at my bottom lip. "You said you're over a thousand years old, but you look…so young."

Hearing my unasked question, she nodded. "Witches and warlocks don't age."

I blinked and they were gone from sight.

For several moments I couldn't move, couldn't focus on anything but the sudden silence that pressed in on me until only my breaths echoed ruggedly in my ears. Dark patches of color encroached on the edges of my vision.

Jacob touched my elbow. "Bella?"

I turned, heaved, and emptied my stomach into the grass.

* * *

"Jacob said we were just outside of La Push, and by the time he ran us back to the house, Vanessa's car and all of her things were gone. Charlie woke up ten minutes later."

The Cullens were very "still" people by nature, but when I concluded my hour-long recap of Vanessa's visit, I felt as if I were sitting amongst a garden of statues in their living room. Most of them were staring at me—Alice's eyes were closed and Rosalie stood looking out the window—though I didn't doubt they were all contemplating what I had said.

After Charlie had woken up and been reassured that Vanessa hadn't been insulted by his sudden bout of narcolepsy—and, yes, I'd told her we would be in touch—Jacob quickly made our excuses for the evening, and the two of us escaped the reassuring confines of the small universe where I was a good, truthful daughter with nothing more to worry about than finding a college to attend in the spring.

Jacob drove—my hands wouldn't stop shaking. And at first, he was doing just that: driving. Forks was small, so I didn't have to concentrate to realize we were going in pointless circles. I tried to think logically about the afternoon, and even made myself start with the drive home from school and the conversation Edward and I had in the kitchen. I could recall it all with perfect clarity up until the point where Vanessa sat down on the couch, and then my mind jumped in a million different directions to an endless amount of details that _all_ seemed so vital to consider. And I was beginning to worry I wouldn't be able to remember them all when it mattered.

On our third pass of the high school, Jacob quietly asked, "What do you want to do, honey?"

I leaned back into the seat with a frustrated sigh. "I guess…we should tell the pack, right? And the Cullens. They should know."

He considered me from the corner of his eye. "And what exactly should they know?"

The nail of my thumb succumbed to the nervous crunching of my teeth. Thoughts still jumbled, I couldn't possibly begin deciphering which bits of information were too private to share and which bits were now just a part of who I was and should be tossed into the pool of general knowledge. And then there were the parts that concerned Victoria…

"All of it. We should just tell them everything."

"And you think it's a good idea to tell a group of vampires that you've been given special abilities by Satan in order to kill their kind?"

"I'm not killing anyone," I said definitively. "And the Cullens would never hurt me, Jacob. They know I'm not a threat."

"Hey, that's not what I meant." He lifted a hand off the wheel in defense. "I just think that the fewer people who know about this the better. Especially the fewer _vampires_. That Vanessa chick seemed big on the whole secrecy thing, and I imagine there's gotta be a reason."

I shook my head. "I trust them."

He didn't think it was the smart choice; that much was obvious from the subtle twitch of his nose and the creased line that appeared across his brow. But he also knew that trying to keep anything like this from the Cullens—from Edward—would be impossible. Not if we continued to be allies.

"It will be easier for me to just show the pack what happened," Jacob conceded.

"Then I'll tell the Cullens," I said quickly before either of us could change our minds. "Can you drop me off there?"

They had been surprised by our arrival (Alice more than anyone) but were quick to warmly invite us in. Esme even seemed genuinely disappointed when Jacob said he wouldn't be staying. Edward had watched him disappear into the woods thoughtfully before turning to me asking, "What's happened?"

And I then proceeded to tell them everything that had happened from the moment Edward had left my house to the time Vanessa had left the lake. I opened my mouth and the words started helplessly pouring out, never slowing to the point where any of them could work in a question or I could think too hard about what I was saying.

And by the time I was done talking and slumped in the Emmett-sized recliner, none of them seemed to know what to say. I stared at my lap and waited.

Carlisle, who was delicately turning through the pages of the journal I had returned to him, was the first to come around. "Aro knew?" he murmured thoughtfully. "If he is aware of the witches' purpose, why keep their existence secret?"

"Panic." Jasper stood pensively at Alice's side with one hand placed reassuringly on her shoulder. "If it were common knowledge that human blood had the potential to destroy a vampire, it would cause widespread paranoia amongst our kind. Many of us would feel the need to take the offensive. Hunt the witches down."

"That would get pretty messy," Emmett speculated. "Especially if you all can do more of that crazy soul plane stuff."

It took me a moment to comprehend that "you all" was a reference to me.

Jasper nodded his agreement. "The Volturi would have their hands full keeping things quiet."

"Yes, I'm quite sure they would," Carlisle said, looking pensively up at me from the book in his hands. "I wonder if this woman who visited you—Vanessa—explained how exactly your blood draws vampires and why it is we do not have the same reaction to your proximity?"

"She only said that it was the human blood inside of vampires that attracted them to us, and that was why you don't get the urge to…you know." I gestured vaguely to my neck

"But your blood is still lethal to us?"

"I—"

"You have to complicate everything, don't you?" Rosalie finally tore her withering gaze from the window to glare in my direction. "Since you've shown up we've had to fight another coven, uproot our lives—twice, watch one of our own nearly waste away, let those dogs into our home, and now we're supposed to harbor someone born for the sole purpose of destroying us?"

"Rosalie," Esme pleaded, looking horrified.

"No." Rosalie shook head, golden eyes fierce. "We shouldn't be putting our lives on the line for the sake of someone who's clearly made the choice not to be a part of this family. We all would have been spared a whole lot of trouble if Edward had just drained you that first day."

Edward, who had been notably silent but decidedly anxious looking, was across the room and in her face before I could decide whether or not to be hurt by her blunt wish that I was dead. His voice was low and steely, and although I couldn't see his face from where I was sitting, I could picture it smoothed into an intimidating stillness as he spoke. "I know it might be hard for you to comprehend why some people put others before themselves, as you've never committed a single selfless act in your entire petty existence, but let me make it quite clear that here you're in the minority and that you have absolutely no say as to who is or is not a part of this family."

Rosalie looked about ready to reach down Edward's throat to rip his voice box out while Emmett stood casually, but purposefully nearby, prepared to intervene if need be (although I wasn't sure whether he would be holding Edward down or Rosalie back).

Reluctantly, I slouched to my feet. "Look, Rosalie." She shot me a glare that Leah would have silently applauded. "I know that things are a mess right now—and have been for a while—but I didn't ask for any of this. I don't _want _to kill vampires and I don't _want_ to be damned. I really don't want any of you getting hurt by Victoria on my behalf. But if you're that eager to have me drained, you're more than welcome to do it yourself now." I spread my hands in submission.

The tense silence following my proclamation was broken by Jasper's quiet chuckle. Rosalie hissed her disproval at him. He shrugged. "That's quite the offer. Or it would have been a week ago."

Alice began snickering into the side of her hand, but froze and turned simultaneously along with the rest of the Cullens to face the front of the house. Rosalie's lips curled into a striking scowl. "Speaking of the dogs."

After smoothing her hands once down the front of her silky blouse and giving her ruffled daughter a pointed look, Esme glided into over to open the door. There was six and a half feet of Quileute on the other side.

"Bella!" Embry charged from the door to stand in front me and grab my hands. "Are you okay? Jacob told us everything that happened, and I know you have to be feeling really overwhelmed and frightened and maybe a little sad. But just remember that no matter what happens, you'll always have—"

There was a violent collision of bodies, Embry toppled sideways, and Quil took his place in front of me. "Hey, Bella. Heard about the whole Hell thing, which I think totally sucks. But there's an upside if you consider the fact that you have absolutely no incentive to act morally anymore You are now free to embrace your tattoo and battle scars. Anyway I thought really hard about what Jacob told us, so I was wondering…Do you think I'm _sturdy_?"

"Erm." I stared blankly up into his sincere face.

"I'm at least sturdier than Jake, right?" He flexed his arms, raised them, and then flexed again. "I mean, on a scale of one to ten, how sturdy would you say I am? A one being a grunt and a ten being Master Chief."

I raised my shoulders uncertainly. "Sorry, Quil. It's been a long time since I've seen Star Wars."

He blinked owlishly at me, and I heard Emmet let loose a deep guffaw from where he stood by the sofa.

"You know what?" Slowly Quil started patting my hand. "It's been a long day for you. So we're just going to pretend I didn't ask. That way we can pretend you never answered. It's what's best for everyone."

"You know, Quil, not everyone spends their afternoons with their head plugged into a box so they can date twelve-year-old boys who don't know how to duel wield their pistols." Leah entered the house behind Jacob, nose wrinkled as she eyed the contemporary furnishings in the Cullens' living room. "It smells like a unicorn shitted cupcakes in here."

"No one asked you to come," Jacob said, casually shoving Quil away and reclaiming my hand for himself.

"Summers wants me here, don't you, B?"

I groaned. "You're not going to stop calling me that, are you?"

Leah grinned wickedly. "See? Look how happy she is to see me. We're moments away from hugging." She walked to the far side of the room and pushed open a window.

"Jake, what are you guys doing here?" Not that I wasn't happy to see him, Embry, Quil, and Leah; it was just that we had agreed to meet as his house after he finished talking to the pack and I finished explaining things to the Cullens. I was a little wary of their intention in casually showing up on Carlisle and Esme's front porch.

He jerked his chin in Edward's direction. "I met up with the pack and found out the vampires had called with an offer."

I looked at Edward questioningly. "When?" No one had left the room since everyone first gathered just after my arrival.

"A few minutes before you got here," Edward answered. I knew that vampires were never physically exhausted, but I couldn't think of a more accurate way of describing Edward's appearance as he stood—shoulders hunched and hair sticking in more directions than usual—by his prim and collected sister. There was a dullness to his skin, a slackness to his face. I recalled how he had paced back and forth, hand permanently clasped in his bronze strands for the duration of my account of Vanessa's visit.

"What type of offer?" I asked more kindly.

"Alice had a vision," he said unenthusiastically, "of Victoria and 20 newborns arriving in Forks a week after graduation. Alice keeps getting flashes because of Victoria's indecisiveness, but the only thing she's changing her mind about is the number of newborns and the exact date of the attack."

I nodded grimly in acceptance. It was exactly what he had anticipated. Exactly what Vanessa had warned us of. "And what does Alice see happening?"

"That depends on what we do."

I hated this. I didn't want Edward, Jacob, or their families to be in this position where they had to risk everything because I could fight my own battles. "So what's the plan?"

There was no indecision when Edward replied, "We need to prepare. Newborns are singular from aged vampires in that they have very little finesse but a great deal of strength. Taking them down will require a certain technique. Jasper has experience dealing with newborns in the South and should be able to instruct us in how to most efficiently destroy them with as little harm to ourselves as possible."

"So Eastwood there is going to teach us how to wrangle baby leeches," Leah chipped in. She was nearly leaning backwards out the open window in search of fresh air.

"Sam agreed it was a good idea," Jacob confirmed. He tugged gently on our interlocked hands. "I came to give you a ride to the clearing."

Edward seemed surprised. "You want to begin tonight?"

Jacob smirked. "Too close to your bedtime, Cullen?"

"I only meant to express my concern for your stamina. And its unfortunate limits."

"Oh yeah," Jacob chuckled darkly "we're definitely doing this tonight."

* * *

**AN:** A big thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I know I respond to every review but a couple people weren't signed in or had PMs disabled, and I wanted to be able to let them know that I am indeed grateful that they take the time to drop me a line. So, thank you. :)

My guess is that I'll be posting a one-shot before I update with the next chapter of Zenith, so keep an eye out for that. It's a Jasper/Bella story I'm writing for a friend. Till then, my dears!


	30. They Fight

**Zenith**

_Chapter Thirty – They Fight_

* * *

No matter how many times I flipped a page or how many hours I spent staring at the inked symbols scrawled across the inexplicably pristine paper, I couldn't decipher a word of the 600-year-old text—despite Vanessa's reassurances otherwise. In the three weeks since she had left, I had spent an unprecedented amount of time pouring over the journal that Carlisle had insisted was rightfully mine. I took it with me every time the Pack and the Cullens met at night to train together and discuss battle strategies, I held it on my lap beneath the desks at school, and at night I fell asleep with it lying open across my chest.

The writing wasn't in any modern language, that much Carlisle had assured me. I had tried looking for patterns of structure, or repetitive sequences of the small, intricate symbols. But it was almost impossible to find any two characters that were the same. There were times when I could feel _something_—the slightest tug of comprehension—but the moment I tried focusing in on it the feeling would vanish, and it was all just paper and ink again.

I wasn't exactly certain why I was so compelled to read the book at all. At most, it should have been an intriguing prospect. Managing to decipher a text that had even the wisest, oldest vampire I knew stumped, would be no small accomplishment, and I could, at least, feel as if I were contributing in some small way to all of the preparations. I wouldn't just be sitting around waiting for everyone to put their necks on the line in the battle against Victoria. Maybe the book had information, advice on how I could use my new abilities to help put the odds in our favor. Of course if what I did tonight went off without a hitch, then there wouldn't even need to be a—

_Don't decide. Don't decide. Don't decide._

Shutting the journal, I shoved it across the table and rested my head atop my folded arms, making sure to keep tabs on the stove where the pasta was boiling for dinner. With a token salad chilling in the refrigerator, a homemade meat sauce staying warm in the oven alongside the loaf of garlic bread—which had come fresh from Sue Clearwater's kitchen and not the freezer section of the convenient store, and a generous slice of the diner's cherry pie sitting in a little white bakery box on the counter, I knew I pretty much had Charlie pegged. My only concern was that _he_ would know he'd been pegged.

Not that it really mattered if he picked up on my conspicuous attempts at persuasion, I reminded myself. In fact, I really didn't need to butter him up at all. I was an adult and free to make my own decisions. I wasn't looking for Charlie's permission; I just wanted him to be…_aware_ of my plans.

He liked ranch dressing, right?

A car door closed, and I sprung from my seat to retrieve the food from the oven and glare at the pasta for not cooking as quickly as I'd like. I was placing the basket of bread on the table when Charlie walked in still wearing his uniform minus the utility belt, which he kept hanging in the hall.

"Smells great in here, Bells." He looked around the kitchen, clearly surprised by my unprecedented effort. "What's the occasion? You up to no good?"

Crap.

But I tried to look less guilty than I actually felt. "Not unless you would consider me graduating from high school in three days 'no good.'" Today had been the seniors' last day of classes and on Saturday afternoon we would be donning cap and gown to be marched before a crowd of over-zealous cameras

The reminder made Charlie smile in a way he rarely did, and I felt a rush of warmth in my chest at knowing he was proud of me. "I don't think it's right that you have to make your own graduation dinner."

While carefully straining the pasta over the sink, I dithered over whether or not to take advantage of the segue way while I had the chance. Maybe it would be better if he ate first.

But Charlie ended up making the choice for me.

"We'll have to go out for a proper celebratory meal after your commencement," he said while sliding easily into his chair. "You like the Lodge, don't you, Bells?"

The Lodge was the only nice restaurant in town (as in it was the only place that didn't let you choose where you sat). "Actually, Dad,"—I stuck a fork in the linguini and placed it in front of him—"Sue invited us over for dinner on Saturday night. The Reservation school had their graduation last week, so she wanted to do a group thing for Leah and I. She invited Jacob and Billy over, too."

Charlie gawked at me in surprise, and I took the opportunity to inconspicuously place a can of Rainier in front of him. His hand moved to grasp it automatically. "When did she tell you that?"

With nothing left to place on the table, I was forced to take a seat. "This afternoon. I stopped by to pick up the bread for dinner and we talked for a little bit and asked if you and I would like to come over."

Charlie recovered enough to take a sip of his beer. "Well, that was very, uh, thoughtful of her."

I bobbed my head in agreement and forced myself to spoon some salad onto my plate even though my stomach was in knots. "I told her 'yes.' I didn't think you'd mind."

Heat crept up from his uniform collar as he shook his head. "Of course not. You deserve a home-cooked meal you don't have to make yourself. And Sue's…great."

"She is. We also talked about Leah's plans for the fall. She's enrolled to take classes in Port Angeles starting in August. It got me thinking about my own plans, or rather my complete lack of plans—"

"Bella." Charlie held up a hand to silence me. When he set both his drink and his fork down, I became twitchy in my seat. "You should know that I talked with your mother today."

I cleared my throat. "Oh?"

Nodding, he leaned back in his chair. "She said you'd already told her how that meeting with Ms. Dart went a couple weeks back, and she said she was worried that you didn't sound too enthusiastic about this school."

"I think Stregheria sounds great, Dad," I rushed to say. "I just don't know if it's…for me."

"Look," he sighed heavily, rubbing at his jaw. "Your mother and I agree that it wouldn't be smart to rush into this big of a decision. You shouldn't do something just because you think it's what you ought to be doing, or because it's what's expected. Taking into consideration what this will mean for you one, five, or ten years down the road is important. So if you don't think this college will lead you where you want to go…"

I could fill in the blank.

Slumping into my seat, I smiled gratefully for his understanding. "Thanks."

I could sense his relief at having that conversation over as he enthusiastically reclaimed his fork and wrapped it in pasta. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be thinking about where you _do_ want to be, Bells."

"I know," I agreed. "And actually I've been thinking about it, and I've decided to enroll in Peninsula College next semester. The tuition isn't bad, so it'd be a cheap way for me to get a bunch of pre-recs out of the way. And maybe I'll take a class that piques my interest so I'll have a better idea of what I want to do."

To his credit, Charlie tried not to look disappointed.

"It would just be for a year," I clarified, doing my best to sound positive. "Then I could re-apply to some of the schools I missed the application deadlines for because of…"

I reached for the sauce in order to ignore the silence.

Charlie chewed slowly, taking his time to consider my proposition and weigh it against the advice he had just given me. He had bigger dreams for me than a community college. I knew that. But he also wanted for me to be happy.

"I don't know how to feel about you spending all day alone in unfamiliar city,"

Normally I would have argued that Port Angeles was Mr. Rodger's Neighborhood compared to Phoenix or even Seattle and that I was entirely capable of holing up in the library between classes. But this was the exact kind of argument I had been hoping for.

"But I won't be alone. Leah's going to be taking classes too, and since she doesn't have a car we'll carpool up and back on days we have class."

"You know, you might have to get there pretty early, Bells, and La Push isn't exactly on the way."

"That's why I'm going to stay in La Push," I said before quickly popping a big piece of bread in my mouth. I watched Charlie carefully.

Eyebrows raised nearly to his receding hairline and jaw working soundlessly for several seconds, it seemed to take every bit of Charlie's self-control to muster enough coherency to ask, "You want to live with the Clearwaters?"

"No," I said slowly, studiously twirling my fork across my plate. "Sue doesn't have the space. But ever since Rachel and Rebecca moved out, the Black's have had an empty room—"

Charlie's hands hit the table with a jarring _thunk_. "You want to live with Jacob?"

"No. I want to move into the Black's spare room."

"Which is next door to Jacob's room."

"And across the hall from Billy's."

A deep maroon color was spreading from Charlie's ears to cover his entire face, and I nearly cringed at the blatant indication of his fury. He frowned down at the table and muttered gruffly, "Billy would never agree to it."

"He said I could move in after graduation and we would try it for a week to see how it goes."

Charlie's head whipped up at an alarming speed. "He hasn't discussed any of this with me," he said as if it negated everything I had just said.

I sighed. "He doesn't have to. I'm an adult. It's my decision, not yours."

"But…" Charlie was flustered, at a complete loss. "But Jacob's still a kid."

I shrugged. "Billy trusts him to be responsible." And that should be enough for Charlie.

"Responsible?" he huffed. "It's not about being responsible. It's about right and wrong. And it's wrong for you to be living with your underage boyfriend."

"You make it sound like you're worried I'll take advantage of him." By then my accommodating pleasantness was waning, and I stabbed over-zealously at my faultless pasta. Why couldn't he just see me as a woman instead of a little girl?

"He's a teenage boy, Bells. You won't have to take advantage of him."

"Great, then we'll both be consenting, and there's nothing for you to worry about."

Charlie flushed purple again but grudgingly picked up his fork. He wouldn't meet my eyes. "I don't like it."

Well. That was one way to slam the breaks on a conversation with Charlie. But I still wanted to smooth things over. I wanted him to understand why I had genuine reason to do this, even if I couldn't clarify the supernatural benefits of me spending the next week holed up in La Push—like his distance from me, Victoria's target.

"Part of the whole 'college experience' is leaving home. I need some space to make my own lifestyle decisions and find out who I am when I'm the only person I'm responsible for. Maybe this will be a mistake, but I won't know unless I try."

When he glanced up from his food I saw something more than anger. I saw sadness. Sometimes—because he was a man of few words and even fewer grand gestures—I forgot how much Charlie loved being my father.

"I won't be very far," I reassured him more kindly, "and I'll constantly be here stocking the fridge with things that aren't brown or non-perishable. Just think, it will give you a good excuse to visit Sue and Billy more often."

Charlie tilted his head and returned to his meal. His voice wasn't as gruff, when he said, "Let's talk about it more tomorrow, okay?"

I bit my lip. "Sure. Tomorrow."

After that dinner was quiet and uneventful. Charlie was brooding and didn't perk up until I pointed out the goody box next to the microwave. He insisted on sharing, and we polished it off while watching the evening news. I made quick work of the dishes while Charlie kept stealing glances at the clock, and around 9:30 decided to head up to bed so he and Billy could argue in private.

Halfway up the stairs, Charlie called out to me. "Bella, I think you left your book." He waved the journal in the air, holding it out for me to take.

I quickly retrieved it from his hands. "Thanks."

He nodded and began walking back into the kitchen. The journal clutched tightly to my chest, where my heart was banging away, I uneasily watched him go.

"Hey, Dad?"

He looked over at me, and I was overcome with the desperate need to wrap my arms around him—maybe for the last time…

_Don't decide._

I clutched the banister. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"G'night, Bella."

* * *

I went into my room and laid the book on the nightstand.

I took a shower.

I got dressed into my pajamas.

I brushed my teeth.

I washed my face.

I considered calling Jacob.

I turned off the lights.

I crawled under my comforter.

I didn't close my eyes.

I considered calling Jacob again.

I decided to wait for Charlie to fall asleep before deciding to do anything else.

The cell phone on my dresser started glowing a bright, obnoxious color.

I contemplated not answering it—the phone that Alice had insisted on me carrying every waking moment no matter how many times I had shaken my head and said the word "no." I considered it a loaner and had to hide it from Charlie so he wouldn't ask questions about its origins (it really was too bad he and Renee had worked out their communication issues). I didn't know the phone's number and most of the time it just sat dead in my book bag because I could never seem to remember to plug in at night.

But it was kind of late, so maybe the call was important, and if I didn't answer, Alice or Edward would show up at my window and I would have to lie to them in person. Not exactly the ideal situation to be in.

So, flipping away the blankets I stumbled across the dark room and picked up the tiny silver device. It took a couple attempts to flip it completely open. "Hello?" I whispered anxiously.

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"Jake?" I felt relieved, giddy, and distressed all at once. I wanted to talk to him so bad but I couldn't right now. Not now. Not until after.

"No, no. You're supposed to say 'yes.' And then I say—"

"Why are you calling me?" I asked desperately.

"Ouch."

I shook my head, and then rolled my eyes because it was useless. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm glad that it was you who called, but…it's pretty late. Plus I thought this was supposed to be the emergency phone."

"First off," Jacob said, sounding amused, "it's not even 11:00 yet. You weren't sleeping were you?"

I pursed my lips and didn't even consider dignifying the inquiry with a response.

"And second,"—his deep voice softened to something gentle and warm—"it _is_ an emergency. You see, tonight I looked up into the stars and matched each one with a reason why I'm in love with you. I was doing great until I ran out of stars."

I touched my fingers to the unstoppable smile parting my lips. "You spend all day coming up with that one?"

"I'm a smart guy, so I'm gonna say 'yes' here."

"Well, I'm a smart girlfriend, so I'm going to pretend that I believe you."

"It's reassuring knowing that our relationship is built on a strong foundation of honesty."

I slowly made my return to bed and sunk back against the pillows. "Speaking of honesty…"

"Doesn't sound good."

"…I talked to Charlie about our possible living arrangements. He didn't like it."

Despite whatever Charlie assumed, it had been Leah—and not Jacob—who had suggested that I live in La Push after I mentioned in passing my desire to take classes at Peninsula College. Jacob had just been very supportive of the idea.

On the other end of the line Jacob snorted, the sound distorted by the scrapping of chair legs across a wooden floor. "I really don't think he spent half-an-hour threatening my dad because he 'didn't like it.' Granted most of the threats were empty, but he might actually follow through on the one that involved me, a sharp metal object, and a much beloved part of my anatomy."

"Well," I murmured, toying with the hem of the t-shirt, "that particular threat may have been brought on by me sort of insinuating that you and I are having sex. Or that we're at least planning to in the near future."

"You did what?"

"I'm sorry! We were talking, and he was hinting at things, and I panicked!"

"Liar. When you panic, you clam up. The word-vomit doesn't come until you're in full freak out mode."

I groaned. "Fine! I was angry and said it to be spiteful. I'm weak-willed."

Jacob's sigh floated like static through the phone, and I felt incredibly guilty for putting him in this position—on the far side of Charlie's good graces and automatic handgun.

"I guess it's a good thing," Jacob mumbled unexpectedly.

"Why?"

"Charlie knows I'm sleeping with his daughter, and there are absolutely _zero_ bullet holes in my person. That's, like, a best case scenario right there."

I giggled quietly. Talking to Jacob had eased some of the adrenaline from my system, and yawns were beginning to fight their way out. I rubbed ruthlessly at my drooping eyes.

"You sleepy, honey?"

_No._ "A little."

Reluctantly he said, "I should let you go."

A few moments of beautiful silence.

"Hey, Jacob?"

"Hmm?"

"I really love you. So much." He heard all the words in between, the ones Jacob recognized in me before I ever knew they existed at all.

"I love you, Bells. So much."

I smiled and was pretty sure he heard that, too. "Good night, Jake."

"Hope you choke."

We hung up, and I stared at the ceiling for ten minutes, trying not to cry. And when I didn't hear a single disruption in Charlie's rumbling snores, I decided to get up, get dressed, and sneak out the back door.

It was cool outside, damp—a permanent state of existence in Forks, but there was very little wind, and I managed to only slip once in the damp grass as I hurried to the woods lining our backyard. Several steps into the tree line, I stopped and whispered, "Leah?"

I blinked into the darkness and started to get antsy when after a full minute, there was no response. I started worrying that maybe the Pack had switched up the shifts or a Cullen was on Bella-duty instead. Although Jacob had sounded so certain that morning…

A cool, calming sensation bloomed in my chest. Off to my right, a large wolf approached, stopping close enough to my face so that I could catch a glimmer of grey fur. I bounced on my toes in relief.

"Leah, I need to talk to you."

She stared listlessly back as if waiting

I shook my head and clarified, "I really need to talk to you face to face. It's, um, about girl stuff."

Wolves could apparently roll their eyes.

"I wouldn't ask if I it weren't important…"

Without warning, Leah's body began to blur and shift inward, fur disappearing and human limbs forming in the space of three seconds. I had never witnessed the change back into human form, and it was as startling as it was inspiring. Watching caused something powerful but comforting to ripple through me. My hands trembled into fists

I gaped at Leah for several moments before noticing that—of course—she was naked and retrieving a folded square of cloth pooled at her right ankle. I executed a stumbling turn and felt my face warm to an uncomfortable temperature.

Behind me Leah chuckled. "Sometimes I forget that not everyone sees me buck naked on a semi-regular basis."

"That's um…" I shrugged, because what the heck did you to _that_?

The sound of fabric rustling over skin was a pretty good indicator that she was dressed, but I counted to five in my head before turning back around just to be safe. Leah was wearing a loose, black dress that fell to her knees. It was the most feminine-looking I had ever seen her.

Clearing my throat—and hopefully some of the awkwardness—I asked, "Is Jacob going to freak out that you just did that three feet away from me?"

"God, I hope so. It would be nice to have _five_ seconds where I'm not reliving Jacob groping your tits. Or listening to Seth reliving Jacob groping your tits. You know, depending on whose mind I'm in, your cup size changes. Embry's pretty generous."

I looked at her mortified. "Leah…"

"Paul thinks Jacob gets a fistful of Wonderbra and pantyhose."

"Can we not talk about this?"

Leah shrugged. "I thought you wanted to talk 'girl stuff?'"

Aside from being fairly certain that that particular topic would be classified as _guy_ stuff, I had no time to be humiliated. The longer I waited, the greater chance I wouldn't be able to pull this off. "I need a favor."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Sex tips?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I need a big favor."

My serious expression sobered her right up. She crossed her arms, peering down at me skeptically. "What kind of favor?"

"You don't want to know the details. I just need you to not do something."

Even in her human form, Leah's eyes were sharp and a little feral.

"Will it hurt Jacob?"

I gnawed at the inside of my lip to keep my anxiety from showing outwardly. "It will help keep him safe."

She stared me down. "You're going to do some dumb shit, aren't you?"

That was a rhetorical question if I'd ever heard one.

I watched, holding my breath, as she slid a hand through her short hair and cursed darkly. If she didn't agree…

"You're lucky I nearly gutted out your stomach once," she muttered, "or I would do it right now."

I bit my lip.

The nervous jester sent her eyes rolling. "But as it stands, I feel like I owe you a chance to fuck me over."

Impulsively, I hugged her. "Thank you."

"Whatever. Just tell me where on the line you want me to put my ass."

* * *

Ever since Vanessa's visit, the drive to do something proactive about this mess with Victoria had been a constant tugging on my conscience. Watching the Cullens and the pack pretending to tear into each other every few days had served to solidify the motivation to risk the least amount of lives into a resolution.

I had been carefully considering my options without ever actually settling on a course of action—as to avoid tipping off Alice. Although Vanessa had passed on a great deal of insight to me about what I had become and what she believed I was meant for, little of the information was useful in dealing with the confrontation that lay before us. The more time I devoted to thinking about what she had said, the more I realized she was right about her warnings: I was useless in a battle against two dozen newborns.

But we only needed to take out the one to scatter the others.

With Victoria out of the way, I was confident the newborns would have little incentive to stick together and even less incentive to launch a full-out assault on Forks. Edward had once explained to me that it went against vampire nature to live and travel in groups larger than two or three and that a vampire's strongest instinct was that of survival. Somehow Victoria was manipulating these newborns into following orders—coercion and false promises being my strongest suspicions.

If Victoria were taken out, then all of it could be over tonight.

My grip on the steering wheel tightened as the truck rumbled its disapproval at the 45 mph speed I was coaxing it towards. The windows were rolled up in an attempt to keep in as much of my scent as possible before I hit Seattle city limits. I was relying on Victoria to wise up to my presence in the area fairly quickly, but the sooner she found me, drank from me, and died, the sooner I could get home and face whatever consequences awaited me when I told Jacob what I had done.

Leah hadn't been surprised when I asked her to not to alert the other pack members on patrol to my impromptu getaway. But she hadn't exactly sugar-coated her sentiments either.

"_She'll probably break all your fingers and both your legs before even taking a bite."_

I didn't let myself linger on any of the details beyond finding Victoria and provoking her into going for my jugular first thing. If I really smelled as good to vampires as Vanessa said I should, then I was hoping Victoria wouldn't possess the strength to resist the temptation. And if she did break my legs—I shuddered at the prospect—at least I had the Cullen's cell-phone in my pocket so I could call for help.

But those were the kind of details that made my chest tighten and my white-knuckled hands shake when I considered the possibilities for too long. So, instead I did my best to fill my thoughts with Jacob. I recalled how warm and course the palm of his hand was when it wrapped around mine, the way he was gentle only when I needed him to be, and how simultaneously hurt and hopeful Edward had looked when I told him how deeply rooted Jake was in my life.

I was seeing a lot of Edward's face in my head recently.

I had been driving for nearly twenty minutes and had hit a stretch of deserted, winding road sidelined with trees when I felt the truck begin to shutter beneath me. A repetitive _thump, thump, thump_ began growing louder as the vehicle's equilibrium began giving way. Pulling on the stubborn wheel, I guided the truck to the grassy shoulder, threw the stick into neutral, and pulled the break just to be safe.

That sound only meant one thing, so I grabbed the emergency flashlight Charlie had stored beneath the bench seat before clambering out into the night and making a quick inspection. I got as far as the passenger side door before stopping to stare in dread at the flat front tire.

I nearly threw my flashlight in frustration. This was _not _happening to me. Not tonight.

Although there was a jack and a spare tire in the truck bed. and Jacob had—on more than one occasion—shown me the proper way to change a tire, I had little to no faith in my abilities to do it correctly, or before the sun rose for that matter. (I could remember Jacob telling me where to place the jack but everything after that was a haze of russet skin sliding over a straining bicep.)

At a loss for what to do and trying to buy myself time to come up with a way out of the predicament, I took a closer look at the tire and shone my light so that I could find the hole. A clean slice two inches long ran up from the rim towards the tire treads.

So, I hadn't run over anything. But then I couldn't decide what had caused it. Something sharp and narrow. Maybe the rim had cracked and splintered into the rubber.

"I'll change it and drive you back to Forks."

The flashlight clattered to the ground as I jumped backward, spinning to locate the smooth voice.

Laced in the blackness of night, Edward was standing stoically between me and the tree line, his skin catching more of the dim moonlight than a human's would. His beautiful eyes were sad.

"What are you…" I stuttered, heart still pounding relentlessly in my chest. "How did you…"

"I make it a point to always stay close by," he said softly, "just in case."

My legs went stiff beneath me, my body picking up on the signals I wanted to ignore. I had to try anyway. "Edward, you can help with the tire, but I'm not going back to Forks. I'm going…somewhere else."

"Alice saw you lying alone in a pool of blood," he continued as if I hadn't spoken. His sullen gaze was fixed just past my shoulder, on the hood of the truck. "Once your decisions were no longer intermingled with Leah's, she could see your future. But it's more unclear now than it was before. Before your change." Hollowly, he added, "You've changed so much, Bella."

Realization dawned. "You sliced my tire."

He didn't meet my eyes, looking solemn and guilty.

"Edward," I groaned, but there was no anger in it.

"I love you," he said simply.

Hearing those words from him still had a way of making me feel lighter than air.

"That's why I'm not fighting for you." Tentatively he lifted his gaze to my face. "Because there are so many things that I want you to have but are not within my power to give you."

His left foot lifted infinitesimally off the ground and inched forward before dropping again. His right one mimicked the action, while the rest of body remained deceptively still. "You understand now how powerful a soul is, how you have to protect it and pass pieces of it on through those who come after you."

As he continued moving closer to me, his movements became less precise and careful until the last three paces were completed in a near blur of motion. He looked down at me from mere inches away.

His icy fingers lightly traced my cheekbones as if they were made from spun glass. "You have such a beautiful soul, Bella."

I sighed shakily into the small space between us. "So do you."

"Bella, my soul abandoned me long ago."

"But, Vanessa—"

"I remember."

His thumb followed the dip of my frown. "You think she lied?"

"No. I have no reason to doubt that she believed all the things that she told you. But they're just that, Bella. Beliefs. Faith is what remains with you in the absence of all evidence to the concordant and in the presence of all evidence to the contrary. Religion can be shared by many, but faith is subjected to the endless limitations of the individual. One man's Hell is another man's Heaven." His eyes, which had been meticulously outlining the planes of my face as he spoke, settled on my own. "And sometimes Hell and Heaven keep company, and it's impossible to experience one without knowing the other."

How could Edward believe he had no soul when he looked at me like _that _while saying such beautifully haunting things? What could I say or do to convince him he was wrong? "Edward, you—"

"That is why I'm now going to replace your tire and then drive you home." He had moved in closer, had dipped his head so that his lips hung perilously near to my own and the intoxicating swirl of his breath caressed them by extension. The desire to lift my chin and relive the familiarity we once shared was there in my chest, a struck match quick-burning through the unprecedented intensity of what I had always felt for him.

But I wasn't blind to the scars I had earned from holding the flame too close in the past. I drew back against the door of the truck, hugging my arms around myself. "Edward, please." I had no qualms with begging. "I have to do this. Tonight."

He shook his head, his brief disappointment fading into resignation. "It's too late."

A quiet but distinct rustling sound was prelude to a tall form breaking from the dense tree line. As soon as the person was close enough for me to clearly make out, I snapped to attention. "Jacob?"

And he looked about as pleased to see me as I was to see him.

Edward gracefully withdrew so that Jacob could march right up to me, eyes on fire and hands shaking. "What the Hell were you thinking?" he demanded furiously.

"Leah told you?" I ventured sourly.

"Damn straight! I show up at your house at twelve in the morning to find you and your car gone and Leah mentally belting Disney show tunes. You think I didn't beat the crap out of her for some answers?"

Irritated that my plans had been foiled in just about every way possible, I snapped, "What were you doing at my house?"

Of course my annoyance only made him angrier. The trembles in his hands moved up his arms. "What were you doing heading on the highway to Seattle?"

"You know what I was doing," I muttered quietly, looking away.

He took a deep breath and cursed. Loudly. "Where was the thought process, Bells? Huh? What did you possibly expect to achieve from this self-sacrificing bullshit?"

I knew that he was angry because I had hurt him. I had been willing to risk my life without giving him an explanation or even a goodbye, and I would be devastated if the situation were reversed. But I couldn't stand to be patronized a moment longer. Fists clench, I yelled back, "I was doing what I need to do, Jacob! You're not the only one who gets to make the dangerous choice. You don't know what it feels like to watch everyone else risk their lives time and time again while I sit around doing nothing! This is the first chance I've had to do something for myself while protecting all of you. I have _every_ reason to do this."

"For Christ's sake, Bella! This isn't just about you!" he shouted in the time it took to run a large hand through his hair and tug violently the disarrayed strands. "There are other people in the damn equation, people who give a shit about what happens to you. You can't just risk…_everything_ on a fucking whim!"

Edward was staring at Jacob with an awed expression, eyebrows raised in surprise. Pale lips moved quickly, forming words too quiet for me to catch.

But Jacob whipped in his direction with a raised finger. "Stay the fuck out of my head."

Edward didn't flinch but blinked in amazement, as if Jacob had just admitted to shape-shifting into a dragon on occasion. I looked back and forth between the two, but Jacob returned his furious stare to me before I could even begin to contemplate what had transpired.

"I'm taking you back to Charlie."

"The truck's got a flat tire," I seethed, glaring at Edward.

"Then I'll carry you," Jacob deadpanned.

Anger boiling my blood, I looked from Jacob to Edward to my crippled truck. "I think I'll walk."

I had maybe taken five steps down the road when I heard Jacob scoff and start to pursue me. "It's nearly fifteen miles back to Charlie's."

"Great. It'll give me chance to mentally assault you enough times in my head that I won't risk trying it in real life," I bit out, not slowing my brisk pace.

Of course, he still caught up to me by my next step.

"It's the middle of the _night_."

"Increases the chances of Victoria happening upon me." I shrugged, watching the pavement and white dash lines disappear beneath my feet. "You know, maybe you shouldn't stick around for this just in case—"

A hand roughly grabbed my arm, jerking me around until I was inches away from Jacob's pained face. "Stop it," he growled.

"What? Stop wanting to not sit uselessly on the sidelines for once? Stop acting like I have a part to play because I don't?"

"Stop acting like it doesn't matter if you die."

I swallowed thickly, furious that there were tears stinging my eyes. "And what about you, Jake? You think it doesn't matter if _you_ die?" I couldn't imagine anything worse in the entire world.

He shook his head. "I'm not going to die. _No_ _one _is going to die. This fight with the newborns is going to be _easy_, Bells. We'll have them completely out-smarted and out-maneuvered."

"You don't know that," I refuted. "And I'll just be sitting at home, waiting to hear how things turn out once it's all over with. I don't think I'll be able to stand it."

His grip softened and both hands dove into the hair framing my face. He shook his head ruefully. "Honey, I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

**AN:** We're quickly approaching the end now. Just two more chapters and an epilogue left.

I know I said my Jasper/Bella oneshot would be posted before this chapter, but that obviously didn't happen. That fic was supposed to be around 4,000 words long, but at the moment it's 14,548 words long with the ending just now coming into sight. So, um, I'm still working on that.


	31. Paris Falls

**Zenith**

_Chapter Thirty-one – Paris Falls_

**CHAPTER WARNING_:_** Be cautioned that the following chapter contains mature content such as graphic violence, sexual situations, and death. While none of it is gratuitous, the content may not be suitable for all readers.

* * *

I didn't let Jacob run me home. (He'd taught me one too many lessons about pride and ten too many about stubbornness.) But I didn't walk home either.

I _crawled_.

Utilizing his nauseatingly effective vampire speed, Edward had the flat tire changed and the truck turned around before I had even made it fifty yards down the road. I climbed in the driver spot and banished both men with a deathly glare when I caught them eyeing the empty seat in the cab. Edward slunk away reluctantly. Jacob stood outside my window, wavering with uncertainty until I pulled away.

I knew they were tailing me from the trees.

The speedometer never hit 25 mph the entire drive back to Forks, and I made sure to pull over and allow the two semis and one sedan that happened by to pass safely. If only the truck had hazard lights I could have turned on for spite, I thought wistfully. That would have _really_ driven Jacob nuts.

When I eventually pulled into the driveway, Jacob was sitting on the front porch steps beneath the yellow glow of the light Charlie always insisted having turned on at night. His body was hunched forward so that his elbows could rest atop his knees as he nervously traced his fingers along the knuckles of the other hand. His bare feet fidgeted restlessly against the ground.

I stopped about three feet away and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. "I think I want you to leave."

"Can't. I'm on duty."

"Where's Leah?"

"Probably getting her ass skinned."

"Why?" I bristled. "The whole thing was my idea. I made her let me go."

"Yeah, well Sam can't punish you."

"Neither can you."

"I'm not—" Jacob sighed into his hands. "I'm not trying to punish you, Bella. I'm trying to show you that I'm angry and that I was scared shitless when I realized you were on some sort of self-righteous suicide mission. Is there another way you wanted me to react? Because I'm open to suggestions here."

"I want you to understand." I irritably scuffed the bottom of my sneaker against the cement pathway, watching the action so I didn't have to look at his face. It made it easier not to cave if I didn't have to see all the reason and logic staring back at me. "Do you understand how it feels watching all of you risk your lives every day?"

"Well, I do now, don't I?" The quiet bitterness in the statement was not lost on me. "What I don't understand is why you didn't just _tell _me all of this in the first place. Since when do we not talk about stuff like this?"

I hated that he could make me feel guilty about this. "If I had told you, would you have let me go?"

"No," he said easily. "I love you too much to pat your back and send you off to your death just so that you can feel better about yourself."

My lips pursed into a frown. "I wouldn't have gone if I really thought there was no chance of making it out alive."

"Yes, you would've. It's one of the reasons that I love you. Now come 'ere." He jerked his chin to the side, indicating the open spot on the porch steps between him and the side of the house.

I dawdled for a bit to make it look like I was considering declining the invitation and then sat down as far from him as possible—a whole six inches away. Sniffing, I looked anywhere but him.

Jacob chuckled at my junior high tactics, and the warm sound melted away most of my remaining bitterness so that I didn't struggle when he curled an arm around my shoulders and a hand around my thigh in order to drag me flush against his side.

Turning my face into the bare skin of his chest I groaned my frustration. "I'm trying to do this right, Jake. I want to help now that I can."

His fingers breezed along the inside seam of my jeans, a motion that would have had me straddling his lap in a flash had I not been feeling completely demoralized and frustrated. Instead I found it soothing.

"You do help, you know," Jacob said, sounding serious.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do." He dipped his mouth down beside my ear even though we both knew I could hear him just fine. "You make all of us go harder, push ourselves further. No one in the Pack wants to see you hurt—or worse. It's one thing to protect the strangers who happen to live in Forks or who are hiking through the woods at the wrong time; it's another thing entirely to fight for the life of one of our own. Someone who's family." He gently lifted the hair off my neck, exposing it to the night air and the hot rush of his breath as he dropped small, slow kisses down one side. "Someone who I love so much I can't fucking breathe when I think about you cold and still on the ground."

I shivered and blindly touched trembling fingers to the strong line of his jaw. I was seeking to reassure him of my presence while reading the love for me he always kept plainly etched there across his face. His mouth found my palm, kissing his recognition there for me to keep.

"And," he continued quietly, sounding at peace, "I think the Cullens might feel the same way. If it weren't for you, we'd probably still be at each other's throats. And we sure as hell wouldn't be working together to fight these newborns."

I wasn't sure if I believed that, entirely. Sure, both the Pack and the Cullens were passionate about their…differences, but they weren't unreasonable. Even if I hadn't been a factor, I didn't doubt that they would have eventually joined forces to defeat Victoria. But I could also tell that Jacob was more skeptical and genuinely believed I had more to do with the uneasy truce.

But it wasn't enough. Not when I possessed the potential to do so much more.

"We're gonna win, Bells. It's hardly going to be a fight." He said it like it was definite. "The Pack's actually pretty excited about it, you know. Quil's gonna be out a lot of money if Embry has anything to say about it."

Feeling slightly nauseous but unable to rationalize my doubts, I nodded weakly and didn't outwardly protest. My heart raced with the potential outcomes as my mind hummed over unlikely solutions.

We didn't linger on the porch. I bade Jacob a quiet goodnight before sneaking back into the house and up to my room. Once I had shrugged back into my pajamas and slipped beneath the bed covers, I was fighting drooping eyes. But I still snatched up the journal from the nightstand and opened it to the first page. These particular symbols I had nearly memorized in my efforts to evoke some sort of meaning from the mysterious book.

My languid fingers traced the black marks even as I fell away into luminance of sleep.

* * *

"It is hard for all of us at first."

I turned to find Felicity settled in a simply carved rocking chair placed beside an unlit fireplace. The room was small, clean, free from all modern clutter, and smelled like the wood it had been built from. A window spilled in bright daylight that illuminated the thick fabric and needle in Felicity's graceful hands. Through the pane I could see a familiar garden, the one she and I had sat in after I had unknowingly awakened.

She gestured to the folded blanket lying across her lap. "I've made this for Nathaniel. Tomorrow is his sixth birthday," she said warmly.

I finally recognized it as a quilt, one comprised of plush squares that each bore their own embroidered pattern. The emblem of a golden, stitched cross against the deep blue of the square Felicity was steadily running a needle through. The shape was bold with intricate detail and shading. I blinked in surprise. "It's beautiful."

She chuckled softly at my reaction. "I imagine the concept of God makes you a touch more uncomfortable now than it did before."

"I don't really think about it," I admitted. There was a lot I tried not to think about since Vanessa's appearance.

"That's wise of you." With a nod she returned to her work. "Thinking on things that can never be known is an admirable pastime but a fool's ambition. History, on the other hand, is quantifiable and as tangible as that book in your hands. "

I looked down and sure enough the journal was still lying open in my spread palms. Only the page was blank, pristine as if ink had never been touched to paper. I flipped through to the end. The rest of the pages were just as empty.

I frowned. "The words. They're gone."

"No, they're not. You simply aren't looking at them the right way." With a practiced tug, she completed one last stitch before breaking the thread and setting the needle in the box at her feet. She stood with a corner of folded blanket in each hand.

The quilt unfurled all the way to the floor, revealing a multitude of blue, white, and gold squares—some standing out more prominently than others. At first glance, the imagery was diverse and seemingly unrelated, an uncoordinated mix of objects, figures, and scenes. But when I looked at the top most square and worked my way down, a familiar story unfolded.

A man.

A scroll.

A moon.

A tree.

A pointed smile.

A cocoon.

A butterfly.

A skull.

A trio of men.

A mask.

A path.

A woman.

A kiss.

A flame

A cross.

A horned demon.

A black hand.

A set of shackles.

A blank square.

"_His name was Varius."_

I could attribute each picture to a point in his story. And it was no less potent now than it had been when Vanessa first relayed it to me.

Felicity's warm voice filtered in over my thoughts. "Words only possess meaning because we have bestowed it upon them. That meaning is different for each person delivering them and receiving them. The letters themselves have no intrinsic value. So, imagine if we had no need to rely upon our senses to communicate, if one could simply pass her message directly to another. Soul to soul. That,"—Felicity smiled with an enlightened gleam in her eyes—"would be truth in its purest form."

The words meant nothing. The writing was merely a vessel, an intent materialized into tangible form. The words meant nothing.

"Someone put a part of themselves into that book, Isabella. A part of us. A part of _you_. Can you not feel it?"

I looked down at the blank pages, staring at them with more than just my eyes. I dug until I found that feeling in my gut that had always told me I was different—separate—from the other kids in school and the strangers I passed on the street. It was the intuition that first warned me of Edward's differences and revealed Jacob's supernatural identity to my dreaming mind long before I could comprehend the wolves' existence. That very instinct was what drew me closer to them both.

A phantom hand touched my shoulder.

At first the change was minute. Tiny pricks of ink appeared in the top left corner of first page and slowly expanding like drops of moisture soaked up by a coffee filter, always spreading outward to claim and alter _more_. But these black stains acted as if guided by some invisible force to form thin lines that curved and swooped to connect and form first one letter and then two. One word and then another. And another, and another…

The script was large and flowed across the page with a sense of abandonment most would criticize as sloppy. But each letter was strong and elegant, a bold mark made with purpose. The speed at which they appeared quickened so that by time the first page was filled and I had turned it over, the next one was almost just as swathed in words.

I watched in amazement for several moments longer before flipping back to the front and reading:

"_Another century gone and yet I do not mourn its passing. The years have filled me with comprehension for the planes that work through and around the world, and after much trial I have learned to bend and shape them to my needs. This place is smaller now. And though the others continue to struggle with mastering their bond to the lower plane and are unable to bend it as freely should, I feel a sense of hope I abandoned two hundred years ago rekindling for the first time. Perhaps we are not as damned as I was led to believe…"_

Tearing me eyes away from the text, I looked at Felicity questioningly. "Who was she?"

Felicity didn't glance up from her task of refolding the quilt. "The most powerful witch to have ever lived. Until now."

I recalled Vanessa's amazement when I had divulged the unexplainable supernatural happenings in my life. The disappearing and reappearing, the dreams, Edward's voice, the uncanny coolness that bloomed in my chest whenever a wolf was close. All were things she considered impossible for a witch as inexperienced as myself. "You mean, I…"

"Yes."

My fingers trembled with the need to turn the next page. "Vanessa said that this journal could be useful to me. How?"

Felicity reclaimed the rocking chair. "The body is trained through practice, the mind is honed through repetition, and the soul is opened through revelation. Considering whose journal that is, I have no doubt that many revelations await you. All that is required of you is to be receptive, and you will receive the skill that you desire."

I exhaled slowly, trying to dispel any lingering doubt. Jacob's words ate at my conscience. "Am I doing the right thing?" I wondered aloud.

Felicity hummed softly. "I never witnessed Nathaniel turn seven." She caressed her fingers over the edge of the blanket. "But I've done everything I can to ensure that one day—perhaps many lifetimes from now—I will get that opportunity again." A tear ran from the corner of her to the cleft of her chin. "We will do anything for the safety of children."

Biting my lip, I nodded. Charlie, I thought, would agree with that philosophy. "This is the last time I'll see you, isn't it?" I asked reluctantly.

The light from the window caught her wet face so that it glimmered slightly—beautifully. Her lips turned up in that small, reassuring way I would never forget. "Goodbyes are not intended for people like you and I."

The room began to darken, the dream slowly washing away into reality. I looked to Felicity one final time. "When I saw Vanessa I noticed she has your smile."

"No," she said, "I have hers. And so do you."

* * *

"Bella!"

Angela hurried towards me from across the gym, her polyester graduation gown bellowing behind her as she and Ben dodged the multitude of families and students crowding the room. When she reached the side of the bleachers where I stood waiting for Charlie, Jacob, and Billy, she threw her arms around me with a triumphant laugh.

I returned her warm hug and infectious smile.

"Can you believe it? We've spent the last eighteen years working to get to this point in our lives, and now that it's here, I can't believe that we're done. Us, high school graduates!" she enthused.

"I don't think it's really sunk in for me yet," I admitted as she pulled away. "Your speech was great by the way. Even Mike was paying attention."

"As he should have been," Ben said with his arm around Angela's waist. "You are the most brilliant woman in our class. You've got the hardware to prove it." He tugged at the stole hanging from her neck brightly embroidered with the word _Valedictorian_. Angela blushed modestly.

"Ben, maroon just isn't your color, man," Jacob snickered as he joined our small group. He slapped Ben on the shoulder and slid his other hand into mine, squeezing enthusiastically. I grinned up at him.

Ben nodded his agreement, pulling at front of the gown in distaste. "I don't get why the chicks got to wear the black ones."

"Great," Angela sighed. "I went from being "the most brilliant woman in our class" to a "chick" in less than ten seconds. Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

We laughed, and I felt a small ache in my chest at the thought that this could very well be the last time we would be like this, young and together in the same place. Angela would be attending Northwestern in the fall and Ben the University of Washington. Despite the distance, they were committed to continuing their relationship, and I was awed by their strength—I didn't think I could stand living more than twenty minutes from Jacob.

Charlie and Billy were hovering off to our left, trying not to intrude. Angela spotted them too. "Well, I should go find my parents before my mom does something irreparable to my camera," she said, but her eyes looked sad and reluctant.

I pulled her in for another hug. "Have a good time in Chicago, Angela." I thought about promising to hang out with her before she left, but then remembered my upcoming battle with a bloodthirsty vampire. "I hope to see you this summer."

She nodded before stepping away. "Definitely."

"Bye, Ben." I waved.

He grinned back. "Bye, Bella. And, Jacob, you make sure not to let her around any bowling balls unsupervised."

"Next time we'll buy out the lanes on either side. And maybe put up some of that yellow caution tape to discourage parents from allowing their small children to wander too close."

I pinched Jacob's side, but of course it did nothing to discourage his smirk as we watched Angela and Ben disappear between two large groups of people. And then I didn't even get the chance to verbally scold him before Charlie and Billy approached.

"Congratulations, Bells." Charlie patted my shoulder tentatively, but the wide smile he couldn't keep off his face bestowed more affection than any physical gesture. "You did real good even when things got rough, and I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad," I said softly, knowing then that no matter how badly I ever managed to screw up, Charlie would always be in my corner and he would always accept me as his. Even if I didn't deserve it.

"Made sure to get a fair amount of pictures," Billy said, holding up my camera in his hand. "Renee's orders. You know, I think cameras are the only piece of technology that works the same way it did ten years ago. You still just point and shoot." He turned it over to Jacob, who pocketed it in his new dress pants. "You looked good up there, Bella."

My cheeks heated. "Thanks, Billy."

"Wow, Dad. It's supposed to by _my_ job to make her blush."

I coughed and stomped on Jacob's toe. A furtive glance at Charlie revealed that he was none too pleased at the insinuation, but he tried to cover it by glaring at the gym floor—a decent attempt at scaring away the scuffmarks.

Billy just laughed. "It's not exactly hard to do, son. But I'll try to reign in my charm." His gaze slid past my shoulder, and whatever he saw caused his smile to dim significantly. "Charlie, why don't we head to the car while the kids finish up with their goodbyes. I think we're cramping their style."

Charlie looked up sourly, but nodded with a shrug. "Sure. Let's do that." He squeezed my arm one final time before moving to roll Billy away.

I watched them go in confusion. "What was that about?"

Jacob sighed.

"Bella, congratulations!" The high, tinkling voice was a prelude to the cool set of arms that enveloped me in a tight embrace.

Ah-ha.

"Congratulations to you too, Alice," I smiled into her hair, which smelled floral and slightly sweet.

She giggled and bounced in place because even though she had graduated from more than a dozen high schools, Alice loved any occasion that could be…an occasion. "Thanks!" Her nose crinkled as she pulled away. "I'm beginning to think that stench on you is permanent."

She shot Jacob an annoyed expression that was met challengingly. "Oh," he said, "it is."

Edward was standing just behind and to the left of his exuberant sister, and I was so caught off guard by his warm eyes and relaxed jaw that I was momentarily rendered speechless. "I have to admit," he said, the corners of his mouth sneaking upward, "it's a relief you don't smell quite so tempting. For once."

I blinked in bewilderment at seeing Edward happy and light-hearted for the first time since…_before_.

Jacob snorted. "Yeah, same here. I consider any day I don't feel the urge to leach onto your arteries to be a real upper."

Edward's eyes glinted roguishly. "Actually that wasn't quite the type of temptation I was referring to."

I tensed for Jacob's reaction, but he only grinned and said, "I went for the interpretation that was less likely to get your ass kicked."

"Imagine. A dog doing me favors."

"Nah. My leg's just sore. Those bleachers were cramped."

"I can't imagine what that feels like."

"Let me know when you'd like me to remedy that.

"Perhaps at a time when you're not quite so…sore?"

My gaze moved between their lingering smirks in astonishment. Were they…_teasing_ each other?

"Alice," I hissed, leaning into her side. "What's happening?"

"They're playing nice—passive aggressively."

Yeah, I got that. "Why?"

She started running her fingers through my hair, which had become disheveled by my cap during the ceremony. "They're men. It's what—"

Her fingers stilled on my scalp. The unnatural rise and fall of her chest ceased as she sucked in a sharp breath beside my ear.

"Alice?" I turned in her slack grasp.

Her pupils were wide, eyes focused on something I couldn't see. Edward had stepped closer and was watching her with a pinched brow.

Jacob raised an eyebrow in question, and I mouth the word 'vision,' which caused him to look concerned. His entire body tensed as he slipped into the Pack mentality.

It was only a handful of seconds before Alice started blinking back to life, but as I held my breath waiting, each moment felt thin and stretched tight, dragging on and on. I waited impatiently as she exchanged a solemn look with Edward. He nodded slowly in acceptance of whatever he saw pass through Alice mind. His eyes were hard and determined.

"Well?" I prompted impatiently.

"Tomorrow," Alice said quietly. "Victoria has decided to bring the newborns to Forks tomorrow."

* * *

Unfortunately we couldn't tell Charlie that there was a dangerous werewolf and vampire battle scheduled for next afternoon, so there was no getting out of the graduation dinner Sue had been planning for a week. I thought it was ridiculous that we'd have to sit around all evening pretending that getting handed a fancy sheet of paper was the most noteworthy thing that had happened recently. Jacob didn't seem to mind.

"What else would we be doing?" he had argued while we sat waiting in the Clearwaters' backyard shortly after the rest of the pack had disbanded from an impromptu meeting. "We've done all we can to prepare for this. We've trained with the Cullens, we've got a solid game plan, and we know we have the advantage. If we sit around worrying, we'll just psyche ourselves out."

This meant the worrying fell to me. I took up the mantle courageously.

Dinner was a stressful affair. I couldn't bring myself to eat more than a small helping of pork and a few bites of sweet potatoes and had pretty much resigned myself to watching everyone else at the table. Jacob was casually consuming exorbitant amounts of food, Seth was sulking, Sue was keeping a conversation going amongst the parents, Billy kept sending me looks that clearly said 'act normal,' Charlie was trying not to smile too widely at Sue, Leah was ignoring Sam and Emily—whom Sue had invited at the last moment when she'd realized she'd made too much barbecue, and Sam was ignoring that Leah was ignoring him. Emily was the only person who seemed at all apprehensive. But Billy wasn't shooting her looks, so I assumed she was doing a better job of hiding it than I was.

Dessert wrapped up around 8:30. By then I couldn't stand sitting in the crowded dining room a moment longer, and I was faking yawns and not-so-subtly tugging on the long sleeves of Jacob's dress shirt. When those hints seemed to fall on deaf ears, I lowered my hand beneath the table and ran it along his inner thigh.

That had him leaping to his feet.

"Hey, Dad," Jacob said while helping me from my seat, "Bells and I are gonna head home so we can get her settled into the house."

"Thank you, Sue, for the wonderful meal," I said as we passed her chair.

She turned and gifted me with a smile that wasn't tinged with the usual melancholy. Her hands—which were worn with motherhood and years of baking—were warm as they clasped mine. "It was my pleasure. Congratulations, Bella. We're so proud of you and Leah."

Across the table, Charlie's eye twitched. His lips thinned and then opened as if to say something scathing, but Billy didn't pay him any mind. He nodded and said, "I'll be back by ten," with a meaningful look.

"Sure, sure."

Twenty minutes later my two bags were lying unpacked on the floor of Rachel and Rebecca's old room next the tackle boxes and crates of broken electronics that the space was usually used to store but had been pushed to one corner for the duration of my stay. Jacob got as far as showing me how to lock the doorknob and pointing out the fresh linens he'd put on the double bed that morning before our clothes started becoming intimately acquainted with the floor and our hands became intimately reacquainted with flushed and exposed skin.

"You know," Jacob murmured into my bare shoulder, dragging his teeth in gentle strokes over the damp skin there, "I'm surprised you're not fighting us more on this."

My fingers curled into the dip of his bicep. "Hmm?"

"The plan," he exhaled softly. His hands, which had been weaved into my tangled hair, slid to cup my shoulder blades, following the curve of my naked back until they reached the sheet haphazardly tangled around our hips. "The one where we and the Cullens go fight the newborns and you sit here and behave like a rational human being under Seth's supervision."

"You forgot the part where I get to rub my blood on the foliage," I murmured into his chest. The intense heat of his skin flush against mine compounded by the muffled beat of his heart against my chest left my body susceptible to a potent sense of lethargy that had begun to take over. I sunk bonelessly against him, my hands falling to his waist, just above where my parted thighs straddled his hips.

Sex with Jacob was the single most pleasurable experience in the world—and the single most exhausting.

"Well you were the natural choice for that _very _important assignment. What with you having extensive shrubbery bleeding experience and all. Embry would have just made a mess of things if we'd left it up to him."

"Uh huh," I yawned and tasted salt and Jacob against my tongue. "Nothing at all to do with the fact that it happens to be _my_ blood the newborns are after or that it's _my_ blood exudes a supernatural influence that will hopefully drive them all crazy with bloodlust."

"Wow, where'd all that modesty come from?"

A none-too-gentle nip at his chest put an abrupt end to his snickering. He sucked in a sharp breath and tightened his hold on my hips. My smug smile was hidden beneath a curtain of hair.

"The way you make me feel,"—he sighed, the sound drenched in contentment and wonder—"it's crazy, you know? I don't think a person should be able to make someone else feel the way I do when I think about you."

By lifting my chin and leaning back slightly in his arms, I was able to see his most of his face. Pieces of dark hair were stuck to the sweat-slick skin above his eyes while other strands—kinked from being fisted in my clenched hands just minutes before—curled around the tops of his ears. He was beautiful like this—relaxing back against the headboard, bare and raw and smelling like sweat, arousal, and me. When he was like this, he was just mine. The pieces and parts that belonged to others were left checked at the door.

"Jake," I whispered, "what are we going to do?"

"We'll fight and we'll win and I'll come back to you."

I shook my head and removed my hands from his body long enough to tuck a piece of hair back behind my ear. "No, I mean after."

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. "In the fall when you're living here and going to school with Leah?"

"No." I bit my lip and fought down the swell of anxiety clogging my throat. "After that. Five years from now? Ten? Twenty? What happens then? How will we be…"

"Hey." He grabbed my slumped shoulders and ducked his head to catch my evasive gaze. "Where's this coming from, Bells?"

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly through my nose. When I felt I had the strength to meet his concerned stare, I lifted my eyes and said, "I'm not aging, Jacob. I'm never going to look any older than I do today. I'm going to be eighteen until the day I die."

He looked away, his hands dropping to wrap around my wrists. He squeezed gently, and the simple touch was enough to send exhilarating, expectant tremors through my body. "I know."

"You'll get older and older and I won't be able to keep up. We won't be at the same places in our lives." I tried to picture it, what it would be like to watch Jacob—and everyone else I loved—continue to grow and age as they moved relentlessly forward. The first twenty years wouldn't be terrible. Jacob and I wouldn't have much trouble passing as a couple in a modern world. I could tell Charlie and Renee the truth and visit them in private. The pack would already know, so I wouldn't have to hide from them. And the Cullens…well, they would always be there.

But what about the twenty years after _that_? Jacob would be old enough to pass as my father and eventually my grandfather—we would never be able to have normal family of our own. Would I be able to attend public funerals for my own parents? The pack would have moved on to have families who knew nothing of the supernatural world they were surrounded by. And I would have to fade into the shadows.

That wasn't the life I wanted for Jacob. And it wasn't the life I wanted for me.

"It doesn't have to be that way." His eyes refocused on me, his expression sober and unguarded.

"If what Vanessa said is true, then this isn't something that I can just turn off. Believe me, I would if I could."

He shook his head. "As long as we're together, Bella, I want to _be_ with you. Completely. I'm not gonna half-ass it just in case things go south. For as long as I need to, I'll just keep phasing."

"I don't understand."

"How old do I look to you, Bells?" he asked.

I sighed in exasperation. "You're sixteen."

"No, how old do I _look_? If I were a stranger you saw on the street how old would you say I am?"

But he wasn't a stranger. He was Jacob. We made mud pies when were six. I was _older_ than him—he was 38 and I was 42. So it was hard to see him as something he wasn't. But Jacob was watching me expectantly, so I looked him over, trying to remain objective in my assessment.

He was broad, tall, toned, and sharply cut like a man. But there was still some boy lingering around the easy curve of his mouth, the brightness of his eyes, and the eagerness of his fingers, which were always reluctant to let me go. That was how he'd looked ever since the change from child to wolf.

"You look older," I admitted, "in some ways."

He nodded along at my words. "When we start phasing, the processes in our bodies start working overtime. One side effect is that we 'age' to our peak physical condition, which is only maintained as long as we continue shifting regularly."

I stared at him wide-eyed. "You're not aging?"

"No."

Swallowing my shock, I stared down at my hands and turned them over in his grasp so that I could trace my short nails along his forearm. Little crescents indented his skin from earlier. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't think it was a big deal." His body rose and fell in a shrug. "I figured that once Victoria was gone and things settled down, I'd stop phasing and it wouldn't ever matter. But now that you're…_you know_, I'll just keep going."

"But what about Billy?" I asked. "And Rachel, and Rebecca, and Embry, and Quil—"

"It's not like this is something I've decided on a whim," Jacob cut me off. "I've been thinking about it for weeks now, and whenever I picture my future, you're the first thing I see. And it won't mean giving up my family or my friends. Eventually we'll have to lay low, maybe even move away, but sometimes that's what you have to do when you want to make a life with someone. You make small sacrifices to get what it is you want most, the person or thing you're willing to put first." He pulled me forward flush against his chest, his forehead touching mine as he guided my arms around his neck. "You are my first. And don't try arguing with me on that."

Fingers twisted into the hair at the nape of his neck, I considered what his words and the selfish, overwhelming relief it filled me with. Jacob was choosing me—potentially for life. A ring on my left hand couldn't have felt any more binding. And yet the prospect didn't suffocate; it freed.

I dipped my head in affirmation and caught his chin with my lips. "Okay. But you know that you're my first, too, right?"

His serious expression turned sly. "Now _that_ I do know."

I laughed and wondered at how he could make me blush even then when I was physically closer to him than I had ever been to anyone else before. He was wondering the same thing as he traced the flushed color down my neck and over my chest, blazing a trail with his eager fingers followed by his less urgent mouth. He tenderly cradled me closer against him.

His affection was a constant slow burn, and any lingering fatigue I felt didn't stand a chance.

Rising up onto my knees, I grasped the headboard with one hand and lowered the other down between our bodies. My fingers slid lovingly over slick skin as I said, "You promise to come back to me tomorrow?"

The possibility that he wouldn't wasn't even a thought I could stand to entertain.

He shuddered beneath me and—resting his face against my breast—nodded silently. I lowered my body back to the bed and back to him.

* * *

Hours later when the house was silent and dark, I crept from beneath my sheets and pulled the journal from where I had tucked it away in the dresser. Beneath the moonlight pouring in from the room's solitary window, I turned to the book-marked page and allowed the words to wash over me.

* * *

"I think that's good enough."

I glanced up at Embry. "We haven't even gotten around to the other side of the clearing yet."

A pebble of blood welled up from my pricked finger and I dabbed it across the bark of a tree. That morning after breakfast (and while Jacob was having some sort of one-on-one meeting with Sam) Embry had showed up at the house to run me to the clearing where they were hoping to stage the fight against the newborns. I bled on anything I could to make sure the vampires showed. It was a small thing to contribute, but my unruffled compliance with the menial task seemed to pacify Jacob, quieting his suspicions that I would attempt anything more drastic.

So I smiled and rubbed my hand over a robust thicket of ivy that Embry has assured me wasn't poisonous.

"Believe me," he said arms crossed, "that won't be a problem. The little one said they'd be coming in from the west, and that's the direction the wind is blowing. So unless you plan to urinate on the rest of the forest, I really don't think your scent could get much stronger." He shot me a nervous look. "Please don't urinate."

"Fine."

He placed a band-aid in my outstretched palm. "Sure you don't want me to kiss it first? The girls tell me these lips are magic."

"What girls?" I asked while wrestling to get the thin strip of latex around my pointer finger. I should have pricked my left hand.

"All of them." He took the bandage from my fumbling hands and secured it around my finger himself. He peered down at his work proudly. "Cool. Star Wars. Now, see that bald, green guy, Bella? Yoda he is. Master Chief he is not. This little man isn't a noob; he doesn't need a plasma pistol and a battle riffle to kick ass and take names. He uses a little something called _the force_—"

Embry stopped talking and his entire body went tense. He whipped his head to the right.

"What's wro—"

"It's just me," a smooth voice rang out. Edward appeared, walking toward us at a human pace.

Embry relaxed but looked concerned. "Is something wrong? Did the little one see something else?"

Edward shook his head, his eyes on me.

"You got my message," I said unnecessarily.

"Yes. We were hunting when you called. Otherwise I would have answered directly."

I nodded quickly, suddenly feeling nervous. "Of course." The blood made them stronger, and they would need every advantage for the upcoming battle. "Could we…" I gestured to the clearing through the trees.

"Of course."

I smiled and turned to Embry, who was looking between me and Edward with understanding. "Well,"—he cleared his throat—"you know how fond I am of trees, Bella. So I'm just gonna go way, way over there and look for ones that are shaped funny. Maybe even chop a couple down to take home. Scream bloody murder if you need me."

He waved over his shoulder as he sauntered away.

Edward and I were left staring at each other. He looked much more at ease than I felt and motioned toward the clearing with a graceful hand. We fell in step side-by-side, our shoulders mere inches apart.

"Thanks," I said, tugging at the end of my ponytail, "for coming."

"I'm always happy to see you, Bella."

His earnestness quickened the next few beats of my heart. I caught his small smile in the corner of my eye.

When we entered the clearing, the westward wind Embry had mentioned picked up in intensity, pushing forcefully against my back. The sky was an overcast grey—the standard in Forks—but there was no outstanding threat of rain. The grass of the field was reasonable dry. I wondered if the weather could even play a part in a battle like the one occurring this afternoon. I imagined not.

I stopped when we reached the middle of the clearing and Edward followed suit wordlessly.

"Jacob says it's going to be an easy fight," I said, surveying the empty arena that would soon be filled with more than two dozen vampires in a addition to nearly a dozen wolves. "And everyone seemed so confident at the training sessions. But I can't shake the feeling that it's not going to be that simple. It's not, is it?"

Edward stood, hands in his jean pockets and shoulders pulled back in his blue long-sleeved shirt. The whipping wind teased his hair. Every other part of him remained unmoving. "Alice hasn't seen anything to cause concern."

I could tell the words sounded empty even to him. "But she can't see the wolves and she's having trouble seeing me, so she doesn't know for sure."

"Nothing is for certain, Bella."

Uncertainty. The one thing I could always count on.

"But barring any surprises," Edward continued, "the newborns will be nothing more than a good challenge. If we can get Victoria out of the way fairly quickly, any strategy they may have should disintegrate rather rapidly."

Nothing I hadn't been assured of a thousand times before. But there was still that doubt I couldn't quite lay to rest. Maybe it was just because I stood to lose so much should things go badly.

"You'll be careful, won't you, Edward?" I was nervous about his mindset for the approaching battle. Although he'd graciously kept his distance since his return, he hadn't made a secret of his feelings for me. And if he still loved me a fraction of what he'd claimed to—if I was still his reason for living—I worried about the impact my relationship with Jacob had on him. Edward felt everything so strongly; the condemnation of his turning, the blood still staining his hands from his rebellious years, the loneliness he'd lived though in a family of mated couples, the curiosity piqued by my blood and silent mind, his guilt over loving me, his guilt over leaving me, he took it all so personally. And he locked all of it away in side of himself where it was left to fester.

He didn't let the hurt breathe. He didn't have a Jacob reaching inside and yanking it out so he had no choice but to face it head on.

I had visited the depths to which loss and desperation could drive a person. It was a dark place where recklessness didn't seem quite so dangerous and you focused less on the consequences and more on the dim satisfaction derived from a single, thoughtless moment. It was where hasty attempts at cliff diving didn't seem so terrible.

"Tell me," Edward said, stepping closer, "what it is you're thinking right now."

I shook my head slowly. "Promise me you'll be careful and that I'll see you afterward."

His hands on either side of my face stilled my movement. Leisurely his lips lifted into the boyish half-smile that I found as charming as the first time he flashed it in biology class. "Tell me," he breathed.

"Promise," I demanded breathlessly.

He cocked his head to one side, studying my features for any secrets they could perchance reveal to him. "I promise,"—his thumb lightly stroked my temple—"to always fight for survival in a world where you exist."

"Thank you." I had no right to ask for anything more.

"Bella." His eyes were soft with reassurance. "He'll come back to you. I'll make sure of it."

I nodded solemnly in understanding. I would make sure of it too.

* * *

The entire Pack was convened in Emily's living room when Embry and I arrived—a tight fit on any given day, but especially close quartered an hour before a hunt. The guys were thrumming with energy and excitement, not one person sitting still in the same spot for more than thirty seconds.

But when we entered the room, all talking and movement promptly ceased, and—in Pack unison—every eye turned to settle on me.

"Um…" I scanned the varying expressions of curiosity, excitement, and disbelief boring into me. "Embry?"

He shrugged beside, looking back at the speechless group in confusion. "Dunno. Maybe they took bets on what the first words out of your mouth would be. Aside from that, I've got nothing."

"No way," Paul said, breaking their silence. "I don't buy it. Quil's fucking with us."

Jared snorted from where he was sprawled on the sofa. "I really don't think Quil's the one who's been doing the fuc—"

"Bells, you're back." Two large hands cinched my waist from behind, pulling me back against a familiar, solid body.

I covered his hands with mine and tilted my head so that I could smile up at him.

"Did it go okay?" He looked worried although I couldn't fathom why.

"Yeah, I bled on trees and talked to Edward. It was great. Why is everyone looking at me?"

His hold on me tightened infinitesimally before relaxing. "Because they're teenage boys and you're a teenage girl, and teenage boys like to stare inappropriately at pretty teenage girls."

"Fuck you, Black."

"Except for Leah. She's a teenage boy who _doesn't_ like looking at pretty teenage girls. That's why she's scowling like that."

Leah rose to her feet, but Sam's deep voice carrying from behind her and Jacob commanded everyone's attention. "It's time to head out. Collin, Brady,"—the two youngest members jumped to attention—"head to the posts we discussed. Seth, once you phase, don't shift back until I give the okay."

The younger Clearwater nodded in confirmation, appearing determined if not a little bit underwhelmed about the role he was to play.

"Everyone else," Sam said, pausing just as everyone's rapt attention was focused solely on the words leaving his mouth, "let's go."

The energy in the room swelled to full force as everyone surged to their feet, grinning and howling, their excitement betraying their anticipation for the fight to come. They filed past me and Jacob into the hallway and out then out the front door in a noisy procession. Leah, more composed than her rambunctious brothers, was the last to make her way from the room. I caught her hand as she passed.

"I'll see you later." I knew she would just roll her eyes if I told her to be careful. But had never gotten the chance to talk openly the night before, and I couldn't just let her go without saying _something_.

She applied the faintest trace of pressure to my fingers. "Yeah, later, B."

And with that Jacob and I were alone, only the faint sounds of Emily moving about in the kitchen disturbing the silence.

One of hands moved from my hip to my stomach where he began rubbing soothing circles through my sweater. I let my head fall back against his chest so that the heat of his breath washed over my cheek.

"I gotta go."

"I know." And I hated it.

"Just keep an eye on Seth, okay? He wants to be in that clearing as much as you do."

"Okay," I sighed, and he held me to him a moment longer before stepping away. I clung stubbornly to his hand.

"Bells."

"I hope you choke," I murmured, still not releasing him.

He grinned and tugged me close enough so that he could kiss me while saying, "Love you, too."

I felt sick watching him walk away but made sure he was well out of hearing range before sprinting to the bathroom and heaving into the toilet. Emily walked in a minute later to find me clutching the bowl as tears leaked relentlessly from my eyes.

"This isn't right," I choked out breathlessly. "I shouldn't be here. This isn't right."

"Shhh," Emily quieted me. She pressed a damp washcloth to my face, washing away the salt and sickness. "It's all going to work out for the best. They'll be back before you know it."

The hitch in her voice told me I wasn't the only one she was trying to reassure. So I didn't argue. Even though the part of me that wasn't so human and wasn't so easily placated by meaningless encouragement was screaming at invisible warning signs. I closed my mind and turned instead to my soul where pages and pages of truth had irreversibly imprinted themselves.

"_Another century gone and yet I do not mourn its passing. The years have filled me with comprehension for the planes that work through and around the world…"_

"…_by opening myself unguardedly to the energies and essence of a person, I see parts of them that even they are blind to…"_

"…_started by closing my eyes and picturing his face. And then I pictured him without his face, without skin, without any corporeal form for him to hide behind. Take these things away and all that's left is the soul…"_

A high pitched whine nearly sent me sprawling to Emily's kitchen floor before I managed to clutch the table with one hand and my seat with the other. I spent three seconds exchanging a tense, knowing look with Emily before scrambling to my feet and bolting for the back door.

Seth—in wolf form—was pacing the small yard slowly, his head raised to attention and ears perked as if listening to distant sounds.

"What?" I asked anxiously. But he could only yip in my direction and paw restlessly at the ground. "It's starting isn't it?"

He tossed his head in what roughly translated to a human nod.

I bit my lip, hands clenching into fists at my side. This was it. And I couldn't even tell what was going on.

"_...that animals do not possess souls the way we do. But they do have spirits that move just as easily through the planes and are compatible with the human soul in a significant way I am yet able to fully comprehend…"_

Seth growled suddenly, his large body lithely pouncing forward at an invisible enemy. The snapping barks that came from his muzzle were loud and vicious, causing me to flinch back into Emily, who was standing in the doorway with a hand raised to her mouth.

My feet moved without caution or hesitation toward where he was crouched, claws raking into the grass. "Seth! Seth, what is it?" I demanded.

He looked at me and whined, lowering his head to the ground, ears pushed back in submission. But there were _no_ words to explain whatever he was witnessing through the Pack mind.

"_...have attempted exploring the connection. But the beasts' thoughts are completely primal and instinctual. I was only able to experience urges and unsophisticated emotions through the temporary bond. Perhaps if they could be given a voice…"_

The closer I got to him the colder the sensation in my chest became, while the mark on my shoulder seemed to burn in recognition. I lifted trembling hands to sleek, sandy colored fur until they rested just below either ear.

My eyes slipped closed, and the pictures and sounds slipped in.

It was watching ten television screens at once, each one with their own show and own announcer giving a running commentary. The images were clear but jumped around rapidly, fighting for dominance with the other 9 sets of images. But seven of the images were of the exact same thing: arms, legs, torsos, and heads littered the ground between the Pack and the Cullens stood and some 15 vampires waiting restlessly amongst the closest cropping of trees. Two of the vampires stood out. One with a wild bounty of red hair falling over her shoulders—who's vengeful, pinched face I would never fail to recognize, and a towering male who's composure and well-kept clothing outclassed the newborns pacing restlessly in front of him.

The voices were overlapping incomplete sentences punctuated with loud curse words:

_can't move…fuck, fuck, fuck…no good…no shit…try harder…the stench…everywhere…is he…the tall one…he's the one…we have to break free…can't feel my body…fucking hell…what's he…she's inside…somehow, I don't know…no, Bella…_

There. That voice. I grabbed it, focusing on the baritone utterance of my name and pushing all others voices aside.

_Jacob?_

_Bella, how the hell are you—_

_What's happening? Why aren't you attacking?_

_Because we can't. We can't even move. One of the vampires…he's done something to us._

_The Cullens?_

_Still as statues. We all are. Bells, listen to me. Grab your keys, get in your truck, and drive south. Don't stop, don't go to Charlie's, don't go to Renee's—_

_No! No, I won't leave you there to die!_

_Damn it, Bella, _please. _Just this once please do this for me—_

_I'm coming to you, Jake._

…

_It'll take just a moment._

_No._

_I'll be right there._

_No no no no. No! BELLA!_

I tore my hands from Seth's face, stumbling back in the abrupt silence. But I didn't bother opening my eyes, didn't react to Emily calling my name or Seth's high-pitched whining. I simply recalled more words read by moonlight and immortalized in my blood.

"…_it's that you're not actually moving at all. It is the planes that must move around you. They're supple forces, and all that's required to bend them is the understanding that you _can_. You can be anywhere you want to be, beside anyone you desire to see. Just put your soul where your heart is."_

It was the wind that gave it away. One moment I was standing sheltered behind Emily's house, and the next the air is pulling at me from all directions. I opened my eyes and saw exactly what I had expected: the backs of more than a dozen vampires standing and—about 50 yards beyond them and inside the clearing—the faces of seven werewolves and seven golden-eyed vampires. They were all still standing.

I exhaled in relief.

The vampire closest to me whipped around.

He was tall, strikingly thin, and draped in an expensive looking overcoat. Red eyes peered at me curiously for a few breathtaking moments, but curiosity quickly gave way to bloodlust once he inhaled and sampled the air now freshly scented with the proximity of my blood. Instinctually I stepped back, and it allowed me just enough space to see past his shoulder, where the Cullens and wolves were now charging full speed at the remaining newborns—completely unhindered.

My eyes alit once more on his approaching form, widening in realization that _he_ was the one who'd been keeping the others at bay. "It's you," I whispered.

"Actually," he said, voice thick with an accent and a deadly smile, "I believe that's my line."

I was on my back in the dirt with his weight on top of me before I could even register that he'd moved. His dark chuckle tinkled hauntingly above me just as my left wrist cracked under the pressure of his grip, shooting a sharp, tingling pain up my arm. I screamed and struggled against him.

Suddenly his body flew from mine, collided with a nearby tree, and broke clean through it before he was able to right himself and land gracefully on his feet. Edward was crouched at my side, leaning his body protectively over mine.

"Bella," he said quickly, eyes bright with panic, "I can't look directly at him or I won't be able to move. Can you leave now the way you came? There's nothing more—"

He shot up ten feet in the air, just as the tall vampire came diving through the space he'd been occupying a split second earlier. The vampire snarled at his miss and hurled himself at Edward as he began descending back to the earth. I caught a brief glimpse of Edward's closed eyes, before their two bodies collided and turned into quick blurs of movement hacking away at one another in a fit of snarls.

Panting for breath, I warily moved into a sitting position, cradling my throbbing wrist against my chest. Further away in the clearing, I could easily make out where the main fight was taking place. The deadly sounds of growls, screeches, and ripping metal were muffled but unmistakable.

Suddenly Edward and his adversary broke apart, both flying backward in opposite directions. I could see that the foreign vampire was missing his right arm through the tatters of what remained of his shirt and that a chunk of Edward's shoulder was conspicuously absent.

Coiled back on his heels as if to re-engage, Edward let out a low hiss that sent a shiver crawling down my spine.

"That's enough."

I lifted my head at the shrill, child-like voice resonating above me. Victoria stood at my back, tall and proud, her crimson eyes boring into Edward, who kept his own eyes shielded beneath tightly pinched lids.

She smiled cruelly, amused at his plight. Her stilted giggles were as unsettling as her high-pitched voice. "Oh, but, Edward, it was my intention for you to watch every excruciating moment of this."

In a single fluid motion she reached down to latch a claw around my bicep and yanked me to my feet. I stumbled to find my balance. Edward remained perfectly still where he was crouched ten yards away.

"I want you to watch," she seethed, "as I pull her head from her shoulders and rip her heart out through her neck." She tightened her hold, long, spindly fingers twitching in anticipation of the kill. "Can't you smell her, Edward? She's even more appealing than I remembered. If you ask nicely, maybe I'll share. There'll be more than enough blood to go around," she crooned into my neck.

"Bella," Edward said softly, "go."

I shook my head, and I know he could watch the gesture from Victoria's mind.

"Go," he repeated more forcefully.

"She's not going anywhere," Victoria seethed and took a step closer him. "Now open your eyes so that you can watch your mate die. Slowly."

Edward's only response was silence.

Beside me, Victoria trembled in rage. "Orion," she barked at the dark haired vampire. "I think he's in need of assistance."

Orion barely glanced up from where he was focused on reattaching his severed arm. "I have no taste for your theatrics, Victoria."

Victoria hissed at his insolence. "Aro promised he would—"

"Aro promised he would help you attain the girl. And you have her." His gazed hardened. "I would suggest that you end it now."

"James is dead because of this whore! And he,"—she pointed an accusing finger at Edward—"is going to suffer as I suffered."

"Edward," I breathed, "don't open your eyes." And then the world bent around me. Around _us_.

Victoria gasped at the sudden change in scenery and loosened her hold enough for me to slip from her hand. As I backed away, I could still make out the faint sounds of the battle and knew that I hadn't managed to take us very far. We were surrounded by trees and a small lake that sat undisturbed just off to my right.

Victoria stared at me in disgust. "You're quite the little freak, aren't you?" She began inching closer, flashing a malicious smile as she went. "That's why the vampires keep you as their pet. It isn't actual love. They got bored, and they left. They got bored, and they came back."

"I was there in the room when it happened." For every step she took towards me, I took one backwards. "I saw the Cullens rip him to pieces and set them on fire. He didn't spare you a single thought in those last days before he died. All he cared about was me. Killing me. He even recorded our time together."

Her eyes narrowed into threatening slits that glittered with loathing. "You," she shrieked, "are going to suffer for what happened to James!"

"Do it!" I baited, arms held in the air. I displayed the scar James had left on my palm, where it stood out clearly against my pale skin. "Finish the job he couldn't."

She struck with the deadly accuracy of a viper's strike, coiling her body around mine from behind as one hand slithered up along my chest to wrap around my neck—effectively trapping my injured arm to my side. The other shot out to ensnare my right wrist, her thumb trailing over the cool ridges of James's mark.

Her proximity pressed in on me relentlessly. The coolness of her hard cheek resting against mine, her naturally perfumed hair tumbling to curtain my face, and her overly sweet breath brushing my lips as she whispered, "You're lucky that I'm hungry and don't like drinking it cold."

The fingers around my neck clenched like a vice, causing me to gasp.

"But I hear suffocation isn't exactly a pleasant way to go either."

There was nowhere for me to move or even struggle, and as the air stopped flowing and the panic set in, I couldn't bring myself to focus long enough to bend us anywhere, let along bend myself out of her embrace. Dots of blackness rimmed in bright color began crowding the sides of my vision.

She raised our joined hands so that they brushed both our lips, but my body felt to light and numb that the touch registered as nothing more than a faint tingle. Aligning her bared teeth over the scars left by her dead lover, she moaned in need and broke skin.

The _tug, tug, tug _of blood running backward through my veins was a stifled sensation, dimming like light before my eyes. So when I was dropped gasping to the ground, I didn't think twice about clutching both my hands to my throbbing throat, didn't consider the blood I was smearing all over my front.

Greedily I sucked in air—more than my lungs could handle—and wildly blinked my eyes in an attempt to reclaim my vision, which was alarmingly unfocused. The first thing I saw was red grass. The first thing I heard was the angry snapping of powerful jaws spurred on by high-pitched shrieks.

Shakily rising to my knees, I caught sight of Victoria being slammed face-first to the ground, her arm caught in the glinting teeth of a werewolf with russet fur.

Jacob splayed one giant paw against her back to keep her pinned to the grass, and then turned his head with a violent jerk so that her arm snapped clean off at the shoulder. Victoria screeched beneath him as he tossed the appendage aside with a casual shake. He went for the junction of her neck and shoulder next, but just as his teeth caught marble, Victoria's leg turned at an impossible angle to hook around his foreleg braced against the ground.

There was sickening _SNAP_ and Jacob's entire body buckled to left. And in that moment when he was off balance and the pressure he kept on her chest weakened, Victoria freed her remaining arm and slammed it straight up through Jacob's chest.

The moment of silence that came next was a vice around my heart.

Jacob tensed and then tumbled limply sideways. Victoria pushed away his still body as if were an unwanted blanket. And then her hateful expression turned to me.

Sneering, she flipped to her feet.

Behind her Jacob turned from wolf to man. He wasn't moving.

She didn't care. Her eyes were on the blood, drenched collar of my sweater. Chest heaving, she stalked closer.

"Jacob," I murmured.

He wasn't moving.

Her hand reclaimed my throat. A sneer reclaimed her face.

Jacob wasn't moving.

Something dry and lightweight crumbled against the skin of my neck. Victoria gasped.

I couldn't see Jacob anymore.

"You…what did you do?" Her trembling voice demanded my attention, and I looked down to see that her hand was gone and that her wrist was disintegrating into grey ash. I watched knowingly—morbidly—as the sleeve of jacket went flat and mere dust fell out onto my legs. Thin cracks appeared through her shocked face, until that too was reduced to airy nothingness.

I stepped through the pile of ashes as I half-ran, half-stumbled to where Jacob was lying, his strong, unmarred back to me.

"Jake," I whispered, dropping to my knees and rolling him towards me. I gasped and fell backward, choking on vomit as my eyes remained affixed to the fist-sized hole gaping through the middle of his chest and the thick blood pouring profusely from it.

I sobbed and forced myself to look at his face, which was blank and still and didn't look anything like _Jacob_. He wasn't supposed to look that way. He didn't sleep that way, didn't live that way. And I knew that the only reason could be that it wasn't him. He wasn't there.

No. I shook my head, banishing the thought.

He was so much—_too much_—to be gone. The sun was still shinning, and the air was still burning my lungs, so Jacob couldn't be dead. Because the world needed him. I needed him.

"Jacob," I pleaded hoarsely. But he remained still. He didn't open his eyes and smile _Bells_.

Biting my lip, I leaned forward to touch him with an unsteady hand, and that was when I felt it: nothing. There was no warmth, no strength, no security, none of the things that Jacob was.

Something monstrous and wailing tore from the back of my throat. A scream.

My hands wouldn't stop moving—they pressed to my mouth, where they didn't stop the terrible sound, they slid into my hair where they ripped and pulled, and they clutched at Jacob's slack face where they shook and trembled.

Heat settled on my shoulders, but even through my tears I could tell they weren't the hands that I wanted, and I shrugged them off, so I could move closer to Jacob, to the last part of him that remained here with me.

But they just came back stronger and more insistent than before. I was torn away despite my screaming protests, and when Jacob's hand fell lifelessly from mine, it felt like my heart had turned cold in my chest.

"I'm so sorry, honey," was whispered into my hair, and I sobbed into the arms anchoring me to the earth.

* * *

**AN:** One more chapter and an epilogue.


	32. The Beginning

**Zenith**

_Chapter Thirty-two – The Beginning_

* * *

I woke up to Carlisle leaning over me. He was calmly and meticulously wrapping gauze and then an Ace bandage around my right hand, but there was pinch in his brow that told me his mind was somewhere else. When he caught my eyes on him, he offered a consoling smile.

I had managed to land myself in his care yet again.

My head felt heavy and unfocused as if densely packed with cotton, and when I went to speak, my voice didn't work. Wheezing through my sore throat, I tried lifting my free hand to my neck, only to realize my left arm was bound to my chest in a sling.

"Here, try drinking something." Carlisle picked up a glass of water from the nightstand and carefully tilted it towards my lips when I nodded my approval. "I've managed to keep the swelling somewhat minimal, but I imagine your throat must still be feeling sore—despite the medication I gave you."

I took little sips until the glass was half empty. After a few moments of clearing my throat, I managed a scratchy murmur. "What happened? Did we win? Is everyone okay?"

Carlisle regarded me cautiously before answering. "The newborns were dispatched without much difficulty after your arrival. Along with the vampire named Orion, whom we suspect was commissioned by the Volturi to assist in Victoria's efforts to get to you."

I sagged against the pillows propped behind me, my body laden with relief. It was over. No more Victoria. No more hide and seek with a vengeful vampire army.

Smiling slightly, I took a quick scan of my surroundings and recognized my small room at the Blacks' house. The realization caused me to perk up in the bed. "Is Jacob here?"

I was a little disappointed that he hadn't been there while Carlisle patched me up. But maybe he had had to wrap up some pack business. Maybe Sam was monopolizing him.

Carlisle hesitated. "Bella…"

The door was pushed open, and I leaned forward in anticipation as Carlisle went mute.

But it wasn't Jacob. Leah quietly slipped into the room. And even in my fuzzy state of awareness, I discerned there something different—something wrong. Her shoulders, which were usually taught with resentment and pride, were bowed with emotions that sunk instead of floated. She stood eerily still until Carlisle had risen from his seat, bid a quiet farewell, and left through the cracked door. Then she walked around the foot of the bed and claimed Carlisle's abandoned chair without a look in my direction or a snarky comment about the appalling stench that had to be lingering there.

"Are you okay? You didn't get hurt, did you?"

She didn't answer. I counted to ten twice.

"What about the others? Carlisle said the newborns weren't much of a challenge, but I'm not going to assume there weren't some bumps and bruises—or worse."

Fists balled on top of her thighs, Leah remained stubbornly silent.

I sighed. "Is Jacob around? I would really like to see him if he is." I bit my lip and fought off a shiver. "I had this really awful dream while I was out of it, and I'd just like to…" My voice faded to nothing.

Leah sat in the chair, shoulders shaking, and long, wet tears falling down her face. She stared at the wall, shaking and crying but not _moving_.

"Leah?"

"You can't talk to him, Bella," she told the wall.

"Is he with Sam?"

Her lips twisted in a way that was meant to hold off the sounds of grief. "He's not with Sam."

"Is he—"

"Dead," she croaked. "He's dead."

I flinched back as if she'd smacked my across the face. "W-what?"

"Jesus fucking Christ," she exhaled angrily into her hands. "You were right there, Bella. You saw it right in front of y—"

"No,"—I shook my head quickly—"that was just a bad dream. Sometimes I have these bad dreams. They don't make much sense, but they're just dreams. Not…"

Leah wasn't lifting her face from her hands. She wasn't nodding along or rolling her eyes.

There was a burning behind my eyelids, and when I blinked, I was suddenly looking through bubbled glass. "Leah?"

She shook her head back and forth against the heels of her hands, as she exhaled trembling breaths. "I'm sorry, B."

"Leah," I sobbed.

"Honey, he's not coming back."

And the images started. Jacob holding Victoria pinned to the ground. A stone arm flying through the air. A crack of bone. Jacob lying on ground. Not moving. A hole right through his chest. The blood pouring out. Him lying still and cold for the first time.

No.

"The book," I rasped, pointing with a trembling finger at the small leather-bound volume lying amongst Carlisle medical tools on the bedside table. "Give it to me."

Leah shook her head but plucked it up regardless. "It's just gibberish shit," she muttered while flipping through the contents.

"Give it to me," I demanded impatiently, holding out my bandaged hand.

"This isn't how to—"

"Give it to me!"

She stared at me with narrowed, pitying eyes that I hated. Reluctantly, she passed me the journal, and I hastily opened it across my lap, silently cursing my immobile left hand when the pages stuck together as I flipped through them one after another, scanning the words and looking for _something_.

Anything. Anything to bring Jacob back. Because his soul was still out there, and I knew it was waiting—counting—on me. There had to have been something I missed the first time. If the soul didn't die, then there had to be a way to bring it back…

_To a broken body?_

I ignored the whispered voice of reason and the frustrated voice of Leah telling me he was _gone, gone, gone._ I turned one page and the next, quietly muttering the memorized words without needing to read them, so that when the tears came so heavily that they filled the corners of my eyes and stuck to my lashes, it didn't matter. I just flipped to the next, and the next, and the next.

And the next.

Each one filled with words that wouldn't bring Jacob back. And wouldn't ease the acute ache inside making it hard to breath. I reached the back cover, and a silent black handprint stared up at me, promising damnation or an eternity without Jacob.

The book hit the far wall with a clattering thud that echoed in the emptiness of my chest.

* * *

Sam told Charlie and another officer that Jacob had been attacked by the same animal that had been killing hikers weeks ago. He explained that Jacob and I had been walking in the woods in La Push—where the "bear" had never ventured before—when we encountered it. Jacob told me to run in one direction while he led it off into another. I tripped and fell in a creek bed. Jacob didn't outrun the bear.

Although I was certain Jacob's injury was unlike anything a wild animal would typically cause, Charlie accepted the explanation without much fuss when he turned to me and I confirmed it with a distracted nod.

Officer Wiltman muttered something about the other victims having strange wounds as well, which was probably a sign that the beast was sick or out of its mind. He respectfully offered his condolences before leaving the Blacks' house to file a report at the station. And although no one said anything, I knew Jacob's body was going with him.

I stared at the kitchen table and pretended I didn't notice either.

Charlie watched me in uncertain silence for several moments before deciding I wouldn't be receptive to any comfort he could give. He went to console Billy, who was holed up in his room grieving for a lost child who had died before both their times.

Charlie left me in the care of Emily, who was resolutely putting together three pans of lasagna, and Leah, who was more collected than she'd been an hour earlier but still hiding shaking hands beneath the tabletop. One of the lasagnas was for Billy's refrigerator, one was for his freezer, and the other was being sent home with Charlie and me.

I had wanted to stay at the house with Billy. Even if I couldn't bear to look him in the eye, and the suppressive silence of two people mourning in such a small space would have been suffocating, I knew that Billy had counted on Jacob for a lot around the house, and no one should be alone so soon after…

But the Pack would have none of it. Emily assured me that I had nothing to be worried about because Billy wouldn't go without a proper meal and some company for the next month—I remembered walking into Sue's house just after Harry's death and knew she was right. Leah assured me that in my state I would be useless to him anyway. I knew she was right, too.

Besides, Rachel and Rebecca would both be home by the following night.

So when Charlie re-entered the kitchen two hours later—several shades paler and an inch shorter—we blindly and mutely packed my things into the cruiser and drove until the little red house was a diminishing light caught in my side view mirror. And then until it was gone completely.

* * *

The days leading up to Jacob's funeral were a child's hand winding away at the crank of a jack-in-the-box. I felt the tension of my despair condensing into some heavy thing that sat on top of my chest. I couldn't name it, couldn't process it, and couldn't focus on it long enough to succumb to the grief I knew was festering there. It was a weight I bore but didn't suffer. And I kept waiting for it to wind so tightly that it burst and drenched me in a more familiar pain, one I could compartmentalize or wallow in at my own discretion.

But the toy was broken and the top never sprung loose—not even when the song told it to. And yet the child kept cranking.

* * *

Jacob was put to rest on a Wednesday.

It rained like any other day. And we stood in the rain, just like any other day.

And it was ironic because Jacob would never stand again. But no one wanted to sit.

And all I could think about was how ironic it was. Ironic that the sky was full of clouds, but Jacob was—had been—full of sunlight. Ironic that everyone was crying and solemn, but Jacob had always made me smile. (Until now. He would never make me smile again.)

My mind of was full of _never_s.

Jacob had been 16. He would never be 17. He would never graduate from high school. He would never be old enough to drink (Had he even been old enough to die?). He would never have a career. He would never leave the state of Washington. He would never be an uncle. He would never get married. He would never buy a house of his own. He would never have beautiful children. He would never choose to stop phasing. He would never age gracefully. He would never die old in his bed surrounded by his children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

Everything had just…stopped.

So my mind was full of _never_s.

Somehow I arrived at the service with Charlie and ended up being pulled to stand between Embry and Leah, the rest of the pack lined up at our backs. It was hot. But Leah held my hand and Embry let me hide my face in his sleeve, so the coldness in my chest was almost bearable.

I couldn't bring myself to look at Billy or Rebecca or Rachel. But I heard lots of quiet sobs and ragged breathing from where they stood closest to the casket and the older Quileute man leading the prayers.

I didn't look at the casket either.

At one point there were several moments of complete silence, and then people slowly started taking their leave. Someone mentioned something about the Clearwater's house and food, but I just allowed Leah to tow me where she pleased. She could have led me straight off a cliff, and I wouldn't have cared—actually, I imagined I would have even appreciated it.

She took me to First Beach. After taking off her pointy heels and ordering me to do the same, Leah led us across the quasi-sand that felt like gravel under my bare feet—Jacob wouldn't have cared if I had worn pantyhose to his funeral, so I hadn't. It hurt sometimes—the sand—but mostly it just felt good for there to be a pain somewhere other than my heart. And it was a pain I could fix if a wanted to; I could stop walking and sit any time I pleased. But I didn't.

Leah held my hand and we wandered, eventually making it close enough to the water that the surf swept in to rinse the sand from the crevices between my toes. I was glad she was Leah and didn't try saying anything sentimental to fill the silence between us and the slumping sun. Maybe she didn't think she was good with soft words, or maybe she just knew how pointless it was to hear them; either way, I was grateful.

We stood watching for a long while, and my feet were good and pruned before I found the real words of substance, the ones we had come out here—where there was no Jacob lingering in people's minds and re-hashed memories—to exchange bluntly. Because these were purely selfish words, no matter how relevant to the time and the place.

"I don't know what to do."

I knew what I _wanted_ to do. I wanted to crawl into a dark hole where the real world couldn't find me and pretend that I had no reason to be hiding in the first place. But when I thought about everything Jacob had done to drag me out of that dark place after Edward had left, I felt ashamed for wanting it so badly. Because I knew that if he were here, he'd roll his eyes and tell me to stop behaving like a two-bit actress from one his mom's old soaps; no one had a reason to be that angsty unless they were getting paid and had been promised one those fancy folding chairs with their name across the back. And a nice parking spot.

I laughed, and Leah looked at me sideways.

"It's not like I've got any fucking magical answers," she sighed, while eying me strangely. "And I'm probably not the best person to ask for advice on how to move on." Her accompanying snort was short and self-deprecating.

Leah, I thought, deserved more credit that she or anyone else seemed to give her.

"But—the way I see it—people get up in the morning because they've got something to do or maybe somewhere to be. And for now that's all you've gotta try to do because no one's going to expect much else." She gestured to the horizon with our joined hands. "Get up and go."

That I could do. It's what I had done for months when I wasn't able to cope with hole Edward's unexpected absence had ripped into my life.

"But you can only pull that shit for so long before you start missing things," she continued soberly. "Opportunities and people who could make a difference." Bending at the knees, she scooped up a flat stone revealed by the receding tide. With an expert flick of her wrist she sent it skidding over the water until it was swallowed by the current. "Because as easy as it is to be miserable, it gets boring after a while. Plus there's that whole complete absence of happiness thing."

I looked up at her. "Are you still miserable?"

She shrugged, eyes on the ocean. "Sometimes. But not today."

And I believed her. As solemn as the day had been, Leah didn't look particularly upset or morose. The strength had returned to her shoulders and chin—even if her eyes were a little softer than usual. "How do you stop?"

"Something pushes you. And it has to be something you don't anticipate or you'll already have your mind made up not to be pushed." Without a warning or a fuss, she led us over to where our shoes were lying abandoned and dirty in the sand. Neither of us put them back on before climbing up the beach towards the Clearwater house.

The top sprung free. But it was not a Jack that had been hiding in the box; it was the grief of knowing that the world would keep turning long after my sun was gone.

* * *

The first seven days were the easiest. I was always crying. Not loud sobs or even noisy sniffles. But I would be walking down the stairs, or talking on the phone with Renee, or standing over a boiling pot—because I still occasionally felt hungry and despite how much change death had brought, Charlie still couldn't preheat the oven—and touch a hand absently to my face only to pull my fingers away wet and salty. Most of the time I wasn't even aware that I was crying until Charlie looked at me in that bruised, lost way fathers looked at their teenage daughters when they couldn't put a band-aid on the heartache. Then I would wipe my tears away and silently promise not to let it happen again. I spent a week breaking a lot of promises.

But then the tears slowed and ebbed until they only overtook me when I climbed into bed at night and then again when I woke up first thing in the morning. All of the time in between became filled with thoughts.

Thoughts about Billy, who was grieving for his son. About the Pack, who was grieving for their brother. About Charlie and his ignorance to what I was—what we _both_ were. About what awaited us in the afterlife. About what Vanessa said I could do to prevent it. About the lifetimes that could take to achieve. Lifetimes of learning to control my abilities so that I could kill vampires. Lifetimes without Jacob.

It was under the weight of these thoughts that I began to feel my resolve buckle.

As desperately as I wanted to possess the strength to stand firmly on my own two feet and to bear my loss with a grim determination Jacob would have demanded of me, I only felt myself sinking—slowly, as if there were nothing but quicksand beneath my feet. I spent long hours wishing Jacob would appear at my side, run his finger though my tangled, unwashed hair, take my hand, and lead me to the solid ground we always managed to find together.

One day Angela called. She explained that she had heard about what happened to Jacob and asked if it would be all right for her to come and visit. I told her it was without having to stop and think about it. Then she asked if there was anything she could do for me, anything she could possibly bring over. I considered the offer and made a spur of the moment request. The next afternoon she showed up at the door smiling and holding a small plastic baggie. Inside was a silicone bracelet engraved with the letters "WWJD."

_What Would Jacob Do?_

Leah laughed when she saw it at dinner later that night. She thought it was a nice little "fuck you" to Satan. Charlie didn't get the joke.

I spent time wanting and hoping for the strength but never actually possessing it. I was treading water, not drowning but not swimming to shore either. I couldn't even _see_ the shore.

So I tried harder. I went to bed at eight and stayed there until noon. I imagined life three months from now, a year from now, five years from now, a decade, fifty years, one hundred. A thousand. I forced myself not to think of the life-that-would-no-longer-be, the one where Jacob and I made small sacrifices to be together because that's what you did for the person you put first. I considered the choices I had to make and the futures each would bring. But they were all so dark that sometimes I got lost and thought about the past instead just so that I knew where I was. The past was warmer, brighter. I smiled there.

I couldn't see a future where I smiled.

I was reliving the afternoon Jacob threw me fully clothed into a cold shower—reliving the way he'd laughed at my expense and then dutifully toweled me off afterward—when the present came whispering in with a hand on my shoulder.

"Bella? Bella, I know you're awake."

I blinked and Jacob's face faded into Edward's, just inches away from my pillow where he kneeled beside my bed. His eyes were dark and small with concern; I reached out to touch the purple bruises that rimmed them. "You look sad."

He looked at me carefully, trying to read my mind even though he knew it was impossible. "I am very sad, Bella." His voice was quiet, nearly lost it in the dimness of the room. I could tell it was night because a strike of moonlight was coming from the window behind me to brighten Edward's shirt. I wondered what time it was but couldn't fathom rolling over to look at the clock.

"I am too."

He nodded. "Yes, I know." After raising a hand to capture the one I had pressed to his face, he folded them both between us on the edge of the bed. "You've hardly gotten out of bed in three days."

Hadn't I? I looked down at my sweatpants and wrinkled t-shirt and noticed that they were in fact the same ones I had pulled on a couple nights before. And the last time I could recall eating was when Leah had brought me three fast food cheeseburgers for lunch. We'd just eaten on top of my bedspread. It had been a while since I'd showered.

I stared at our joined his hands. The smooth, cool texture of his skin was as soothing as it had been the very first time he had appeared in my room. "That's only…that's only because I've had a lot to think about it. I'm trying to get it all figured out. It's not like last time when you left, and I couldn't do anything but get out of bed and go through the motions during the day. I really am trying. There's just…so much."

Edward's thumb traced over my knuckles. "You don't have to decide everything on your own, Bella. So many people want to help you."

Of course I knew that. There were a number of people I could ask anything of, and they would do what they could to help. But they were all hurting just like I was and were trying to cope with their own pain and own grief. I was the only person who could figure out what I had to do. I couldn't go through life waiting for other people to point to where I should step next. Because eventually there would be no loved ones left to look to.

"How?" I murmured, starting to feel tired and heavy on the mattress. My mind and body were sagging into sleep. "How can they help?"

Edward hesitated but squeezed my hand when he sensed me dozing off. "You already know that you have the entire Pack to lean on, but…you have us too. My family loves you as one of their own, Bella. And we'll always be here. Forever."

Forever. I had wanted it once, had wanted it so badly that I had been willing to die for it. And now death was no longer a sacrifice; it was the ultimate achievement, the place where I would find Jacob again—if only I could climb my way out of Hell and into Heaven's good graces. "I don't know if I can do forever, Edward. Sometimes I don't even know if I can do a single lifetime."

His grip on me tightened, as if I were threatening to slip away that very moment. "You have to be strong. You have to live a long, happy life."

"I'm _trying_," I murmured weakly.

"You have to try harder."

My face was getting wet again. My pillow smelled like salt. "I don't know how."

There were several moments of quiet pieced together by the hum of crickets and nightlife leaking in from the window Edward must not have shut completely. He was staring in that direction now, just over my shoulder. He looked battered but resolved. "Do you know what Jacob's last deliberate thoughts were?"

I shook my head because my breath was caught unpleasantly in my throat. That afternoon wasn't something I had discussed with Leah, Embry, or any of the Pack. I had had no desire to relive the horror of those final moments.

He smiled, and the way the moonlight caught the moisture in his eyes gave life to unshed tears. "He had just noticed that you'd teleported out of the woods with Victoria, and this overwhelming surge of fear and pain overtook him. It even caused Jasper to startle on the battlefield. But he managed to suppress it in mere moments with a single thought: 'They're not going to die. I won't let them.'"

The tears fell in earnest, but I didn't move to wipe them away. I closed my eyes and conjured up Jacob's voice delivering a final promise. It was a promise that he would keep.

"Bella,"—Edwards fingers gently smoothed back my hair—"Jacob was fighting for your future, one that he hoped to be a part of. And even though he isn't here now as he deserves to be, you _are_, which is what he wanted more than anything. Jacob died so that the two most important pieces of his life wouldn't."

I nodded unsteadily while fighting off the sobs pressing at my chest. "Me," I murmured, "and his brothers."

"No." Edward smiled at me with his sad eyes. "You and the life that's growing inside of you."

I sniffled and shook my head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

My face between his palms, Edward captured my complete attention. And it wasn't until he saw that I was certain of his sincerity that he took a slow breath and spoke plainly. "Bella, you're pregnant. And Jacob knew that going into the battle against the newborns."

My body tensed. My mind went still. "What?"

"You're nearly seven weeks pregnant."

"Why would you say that?" I hadn't meant for it to sound so accusing, but the words shot out carelessly, a byproduct of my muddled thoughts.

"Because you needed to hear it. The others thought it was imperative to allow you more time or thought that you should find out for yourself. But I couldn't keep it from you any longer when I knew that it would help bring you back from this—"

My eyes narrowed. "Others?"

"The Pack is aware. And I think Alice may have—"

"How could they have known when I didn't?"

"The Pack mind. Jacob tried to keep it from them as long as he—"

"How would Jacob know?" I sat up, forcing Edward to withdraw his hands and lean back away from the bed so that he could still hold my piercing stare.

"You were two weeks late," he explained, adopting a more clinical tone. "The wolves possess heightened senses that, while not nearly as sensitive as our own, can easily detect bodily changes, especially in someone they're intimate with. Your cycle was two weeks late. You're always regular."

"But what about stress…" I was blindly grasping at straws now. Because when I did the math, I knew that it had been at least eight weeks since my last period. And then there was the nausea that I had been attributing to my anxiety and fear. But I still couldn't wrap my mind around the possibility that I was…_pregnant_.

"There are other subtle indicators in your body that Jacob was perceptive enough to pick up on. Perhaps I would have detected them earlier if your scent hadn't changed so much during your awakening. But they're undeniable now."

My hands drifted to my abdomen, which was flat even through my baggy shirt. "You're sure?" I whispered without looking up.

"Yes."

I bit my lip.

A baby. Inside of me. Jacob's baby.

Jacob had _known_. And I couldn't decide if that was wonderful or terrible.

Edward lightly maneuvered to sit beside me on the bed, not touching me but close enough that I could feel the reassurance he was trying so hard to give. "He wanted to tell you. He wanted to share that moment with you. There were so many things he wanted for you."

"Was he happy?" I asked quietly, both relieved that Edward could provide me answers and hating that Jacob couldn't tell me himself.

"He was terrified." There was a smile in Edward's voice, and I laughed sharply because the feeling was mutual. "But he was ready, Bella. He was ready to do whatever it took to have and love you both," Edward continued, all wonder and envy. "Of course he was waiting to tell you after Victoria was gone, when the news wouldn't be tainted."

I laughed again, but the bitter sound was accompanied by fresh tears. I buried my face in my hands, barely managing to process the irony without breaking out into full sobs. There was nothing like the death of the father to taint the birth of a child. And I felt an irrational surge of anger at Jacob for leaving me—us—here. Alone.

But the guilt ebbed in almost immediately. Jacob was dead. Not because he'd chosen to die but because he'd chosen to put my life before his. And I would have done the same, had _tried_ to do the same the night I had left for Seattle. I was only angry that I hadn't been able to save him the way he had saved me.

But what life could I give a child? I was eighteen and couldn't even decide my own future, let alone the future of another being who would be completely dependent on me for his or her needs. I would be eighteen forever, or at least until the day I died and went to Hell…

I breathed in sharply.

"Bella, what is it?"

My hands clenched down on the cotton above my stomach.

"Are you in pain?" Edward asked in mounting concern

"Yes," I answered without thinking, and Edward was on his feet.

"_When He touched Varius's soul that day, he laid a curse on all those who came after him. Every soul of every descendent would be condemned to the lower plane no matter how virtuous the life they led on Earth. This would continue until Varius's offspring destroyed as many vampires as Varius had humans."_

"I'll call Carlisle."

"_You're the first female descendent to be born in over 100 years, and you're already exhibiting more power than some witches manage to accumulate over their entire lives. You needlessly dying here is only condemning them to further suffering."_

"No,"—I reached out to catch his sleeve—"that's not what I meant. I just…"

"_Isabella, you are a witch. You hail from a bloodline that reaches back to a very dangerous and very gifted vampire, who was cursed by the Devil's own hand. Unless you desire for you, your father and all of your potential offspring to be condemned to Hell, then you will come with me now to learn how to control and strengthen your abilities so that you may hunt and destroy vampires with as little risk to yourself as possible."_

"Bella?" Edward's fingers brushed the back of my hand that tightly fisted on his sleeve.

Slowly I withdrew my arm back to my side. I looked away from Edward. "I…I need to be alone."

But Edward didn't move. "Bella, you don't have to do this alone. If you don't think that you can stay here with Charlie, you can come to stay with us. We can live here in Forks, or if you need to get away we can go anywhere in the world. I—we'll take care of you. Both of you."

For a moment I wavered. Life with the Cullens would be easy. We would keep our secrets together while wanting for nothing but the chance to live as we were meant to. The days would pass without ever passing us by. The Cullens would accept me. Provide for me. Love me. Edward would be _in_ love with me. And life would be as it could have been once upon a time.

But life did not end here on Earth. And my life no longer ended with me. My mind was made.

"I need some time, Edward."

He saw it as the 'maybe' that it wasn't and solemnly nodded his understanding. "You have all the time in the world."

His lips ghosted over my temple, and then I was alone in my room—the window closed. My eyes briefly drifted closed before I slid to my feet and went to my closet. Buried in the bag I had taken to the Blacks' house weeks ago—and had yet to unpack since my return home—was the book I had been unable to part with. I flipped through the pages not even glancing at the text. A small, worn square of paper fluttered to the floor. I grabbed it and moved to retrieve my phone from the dresser.

Staring at the tiny line of numbers, I sunk back down onto my bed. It took me five minutes to dial.

"Hello?"

"It's Bella."

"I wasn't expecting you to call."

"You said that I could if I changed my mind."

"So soon?"

"Yes."

"What's happened, Isabella?"

"I read your journal."

"The one I gave you."

"The one you wrote."

"Was it that obvious?"

"You're Varius's daughter. You're the first, aren't you?"

"Yes, Isabella, I am the first. And you won't be the last. But you already know that, don't you?"

"You can help us."

"No. _You_ can help us."

"I'll come. But I can't tell Charlie. Not yet. So much has happened…"

"It's not about trusting; it's about protecting."

"Yes. Yes, it is."

* * *

**AN: **A big thank you to everyone who's stuck with me this far, as I know more than handful of readers fled after last chapter. The epilogue will be posted by next weekend. In the mean time, I hope everyone is enjoying the holiday season. :)

**"If stories were just endings, no one would read them." – Jacob Black, _Zenith_ Chapter 17**


	33. Epilogue

**Zenith**

_Epilogue_

Lots of hugs go out to **latetolove** for being the best beta in the world! (If any of you read the Stephanie Plum books, you should totally check out her fic.)_  
_

* * *

_Dad,_

_I was able to get the spot in the summer course that I needed in order to catch up on my credits. So when the fall semester starts, I'll be at the same place as the rest of the sophomores._

_It means we won't be able to come home for the summer. But I promise we'll visit often on the weekends, and of course we'll be there for the wedding in August. _

_Mom says she and Phil are going to be flying in the week after next. They'll probably stay here on campus. Most of the students will be gone by then, so it won't be a problem for them to take an empty room._

_I'm sending an envelope of pictures back with Embry and Leah. Count them. There should be twenty-four (the doubles are for Billy). If there aren't, check Embry's glove compartment. Leah probably stashed some._

_Love,_

_Bella_

I took the pen between my teeth as I folded the piece of notebook paper and slid it inside the envelope I had borrowed from Vanessa's desk drawer that morning. The Stregheria academic emblem—a hand with the earth in the middle of the palm—was pressed into the bottom right corner. Reluctantly I eyed the shiny strip of adhesive on the flap and considered just tucking it into the bottom because Charlie really wouldn't mind.

"Don't be such a baby."

The envelope was snatched from me hands, freeing them just in time for me to grab at the slats of the porch swing as it swung violently under Leah's additional—and abrupt—weight. Propping her feet up on the porch railing, she leaned back with the envelope at her lips as she nonchalantly licked the tacky tab.

I cringed and looked away.

"You gave birth almost four months ago. You're not allowed to keep being picky about tastes and textures. I'm over that shit," Leah muttered and held up the sealed envelope. "Who's this for? Seth? Have you finally agreed to his elopement proposal? I hear Vegas is hot and dry this time of year."

"I've never been able to stand the taste of that stuff," I defended. From the corner of my eye I caught her snickering. "And the letter is for _Charlie_. But please tell your brother that I thought his note was very sweet and thoughtful, but I think he needs to focus on making it through the next two years of high school."

"Hey, soon he's going to by _your_ brother, too. That means you have to start taking credit for his idiocy."

I shook my head and relaxed back into the bench, allowing Leah to rock us slightly with her ridiculously long legs. "Seth's not an idiot. He's just very…loyal to his brothers, even if the sense of duty was misplaced this time. I thought it was sort of cute the way he asked."

Leah rolled her eyes as she shoved the letter into her front pocket. "God. Maybe you _should_ marry him. No woman is going to think that highly of him ever again."

I laughed, letting the sound linger when it didn't catch painfully in my chest or come out sounding forced. "At least he didn't have a ring."

"You're right. Embry is the bigger idiot."

"I heard that," Embry called from twenty yards away, not bothering to look up from where he stood over the engine of my truck, the raised hood just barely missing the top of his head. He was gesturing and commenting on different greasy bits of metal, his rapt audience a 15-week-old baby happily sucking on one of his large knuckles.

It was a sight that made my heart stumble and chase inside my ribs. Because although he was an inch shorter and tad broader in the shoulders, and there wasn't hair falling into his eyes, Embry bore a remarkable resemblance to Jacob. He smiled just as often. And when I saw him holding our son that way—close enough to protect but not enough to shelter—I saw Jacob more clearly than I had in the past year.

It made my insides ache, and I smiled—because I still could.

Embry turned from the truck and walked up the driveway and porch steps. When he made it to where we were slumped in the swing, he hip-checked Leah's feet off the railing so that he could sit on top of it. "EJ and I have diagnosed the problem," he said to me proudly, running his fingers through fine tuffs of dark that topped a round baby face studded with wide brown eyes.

I opened my mouth to inquire after the condition of my truck—which had stopped running two days ago—but Leah's scowl shut me up. "The next time you call him EJ," she said coolly, "I'm going to rip off your dick and feed it to an orca. His name is Ephraim. If Bella wanted him to be called EJ, she would have named him EJ. But she didn't."

"Well, I can think of lots of names people call you that I'm pretty sure never got Sue's approval. I would say a few examples out loud, but I'm a good godfather and don't curse in front of my godson. I think Aunt Leah needs to have her mouth washed out with soap. Don't you agree, _EJ_?"

A balloon of spit bubbles dribbled down his chin and onto Embry's hand.

"Clearly an affirmative."

"No," Leah snapped, "smiles are 'affirmative.' Crying is 'negative,' and spit bubbles are 'someone get me out of the hands of this giant dingo-wishes-he-had-shit-for-brains before I cut a bitch.'"

Embry frowned deeply, looking wounded. "Ephraim would never say that about me. He loves his Papa Embry. We tummy time together."

"He does love you," I soothed, pulling a burp cloth from over my shoulder. I stood so that I could wipe at Ephraim's wet face. "He loves both of you very much and would hate to see you fighting over him."

"Oh, he knows we're just—poop!" Embry launched to his feet, holding Ephraim up in the air with a beaming smile. "He pooped!"

Leah rolled her eyes. "As long as it doesn't come out solid—"

"It's fine, I know," Embry mumbled while rewarding Ephraim with a kiss on the cheek. "But I was a little worried, buddy, when Mommy told me it'd been five days since the last one. I thought maybe Aunt Leah had given you one of the sticks she likes to keep shoved up her—"

Leah was on her feet, and Embry was rushing in the front door before the rest of the sentence ever saw daylight. I assumed that was Embry volunteering to change the diaper.

I bit my lip at the sight of the mud he'd unknowingly tracked inside but reasoned that it wasn't a big deal as long as I got it wiped up before Vanessa got back from Serbia on Wednesday. Leopold wouldn't care; he didn't even use the front door—he planesbent in and out of his room, probably from a desire not to run into me and be forced into human interaction.

When I had arrived in Olympia with Charlie last fall under the pretense of attending Stregheria's new satellite campus there, I hadn't been sure what to expect or how far Vanessa would go to keep up the hoax. So when Charlie had pulled past the security gate onto a gravel private drive that easily rivaled the length and wooded beauty of the one winding back to the Cullens' property in Forks, one of my thumbnails was chewed to the quick while the other was caught between my teeth and disappearing at an alarming rate.

I had gasped when the large, regal structure—that was more mansion than house or professional building—came into view after a final bend through the trees. Two stories of pale stone chiseled into a distinct centerpiece flanked by two large wings. The Entire structure was adorned with large, shuddered windows and topped with an additional floor peeking through smaller panes of glass set into the gradual gray slate roof. It was something I imagined belonged in a European countryside and not on the outskirts of a mid-sized American city that saw more clouds than sunlight. I had been so distracted counting the chimneys that I almost didn't notice the other men and women my age with their families—paid actors, I would later be informed—milling about the manicured lawn or Vanessa walking towards us from the shadow of the front door.

Embry called it the x-mansion. Leah called it the slayer lair. Vanessa called it our cover story.

Standing on the front porch of the renovated guesthouse, which moonlighted as a suite of dorm rooms whenever Charlie or Renee visited, I could just make out the roof of the manner over the barrage of trees that flooded the majority of the "institute's" property. I had only been inside the manner a handful of times after Vanessa gave Charlie and I the grand tour the first day of our arrival—twice to browse the library which accounted for half of the second floor and once during a mistaken planesbending when I had been aiming for the roof but arrived in a third floor bathroom. Vanessa, Leopold, Ephraim and I all had rooms in the guest house where there wasn't so much extra space to make you feel alone.

"Have you figured out how you're telling Charlie yet?"

I turned away from the gray morning to face Leah, who had taken up Embry's vacated position on the rail. I shrugged, trying to conceal the concern I felt over the eminent _big reveal_. "Sue and I are going to sit down with him together when I go back to Forks after Renee's visit. Technically he's not allowed to be told about the Pack until after they're married, but the Elders agreed that if I'm going to tell Charlie I'm a witch, there's no using hiding the fact his stepchildren are familiars."

"Werewolves," Leah corrected.

"Shapeshifters."

"Poodles on steroids. In Quil's case anyway."

I grinned downward with a shake of my head. It would be a rough conversation, I imagined, even with Sue there to temper Charlie's reaction. Telling Charlie about my pregnancy had been painless for me. I knew Charlie. I had known that he wouldn't get angry, or yell, or criticize. With Jacob's loss still fresh and bleeding, the gain of a life was a salve that cleaned grime from the ugly wound. Charlie had been flustered certainly and even upset that I was in that position at all—pregnant, 18, and single. But whenever either of us said the words "Jacob's baby," I saw the same flicker of wonder and hope I felt burn inside of me at the realization that Jacob was going to stay with us a bit longer; we just had to learn to love him in a new way.

But there was no consolation in learning that his daughter had stopped aging and was part of a world he would never like to dream of and could never be a complete part of. I had decided that Charlie only need know the basics of my circumstances, just enough information so that I could safely continue to see him face-to-face 10 years down the road—I wanted him to keep being a part of mine and Ephraim's life. But there would be no talk of Hell and no talk of my impending run-ins with vampires.

Vanessa, even though she was reluctant about me coming clean to Charlie at all, had agreed with my tactic; the less he knew, the better.

Renee was a battle for another day.

"I think he's going to have a hard time accepting it," I sighed. "Charlie likes things to be simple."

"Then he's marrying into the wrong family." The amused quirk of her lips softened the comment.

"No," I disagreed, "I think having you guys there will be helpful. He'll see the good side of things in person."

Leah seemed to consider that. "So you're really not coming back to stay, are you?"

Beside her I leaned my palms against the railing, felt the support of her proud tone in the solid wood beneath my hands. "No. I've only just started here. And," I said a bit more hesitantly, "I kind of like this place. I'm actually good at this." Gesturing to the yard and trees, I indicated the thirty acres of land that had become my alternate training ground and home over the last several months. "I feel like I could really do this, and I could do it well. I _need_ to do it well. And Vanessa…understands that."

"Don't you get bored out of your mind? Vanessa's gone half the time and Tall, Dark, and Silent up there is only good for looking at—when we even see him at all. You know, that teleporting thing is really fucking annoying and rude."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring her last comment. In the sizeable amount of time she and Embry had spent at Stregheria over a number of weekends, Leah had developed some unexplainable attraction to Leopold. Her complete inability to own up to the crush resulted in the buildup of frustrated energy, which she always unleashed on me at opportune moments. "I have Ephraim," I said. "He keeps me plenty busy."

"The boy's disgustingly cute, but he doesn't speak English."

"Well, I always have the trees to talk to," I muttered sarcastically.

Leah leaned back and let out a bark of laughter. "You said it; not me."

"Hey, I did it _once_, and it was an exercise to learn how to connect to the physical plane of—"

She held up a hand to stop me. "Please don't ruin the mental image I have of you sitting in front of a tree, reading it Thoreau while discussing the devastating effects of deforestation in the North West. Okay? It's my happy place."

I huffed and turned around so that our elbows were nearly brushing as we looked at the front of the house. "I think Embry really is planning on moving down here for the summer."

"I know he is."

"And what about you? What are you doing after classes end this week?"

"Forcing Embry to let me drive because I am _not_ spending another 3 hours listening to him bang away at the steering wheel to Styx and Heart. He hums like a freight train. This is why I never let him drive us in the first place."

I straightened, the building anticipation causing me to bite my lip. "You're coming down for the summer, too? What about helping Sue plan the wedding?"

Bobbing her head, Leah shrugged. "It's going to be small. She just wants something simple on the beach. Low maintenance."

A detailed mental image flashed briefly across my consciousness. _The beach of La Push. Jacob standing, the setting sun at his back. A stranger holding a small book. Ephraim, several years older, standing at his father's hip. Jacob reaching out toward me, smiling._

"Plus," Leah continued on, unaware, "Vanessa's paying an indecent amount of money to get the chance to 'study' us while we're here. When she offered I had her show me what she meant to do on Embry. All she did was meditate three feet away while he watched the Clone Wars. Embry was just as dumb afterward as he was before hand, so I figured it was safe. I'll be able to afford mom and Charlie a nice wedding gift."

I closed my eyes and tried to see Jacob and the beach again, but there was nothing. Letting out a shaky breath, I forced myself to refocus on Leah's words. "And…and Sam's okay with you guys being here for that long?"

"The fuck should I care?" Her eyes hardened.

"I only meant as far as the Pack…"

"We've had a run in with one vampire in the last year. They don't need the numbers anymore."

And that was the end of that conversation.

We stood in silence until Leah almost begrudgingly mumbled, "It's raining in Binghamton."

I sighed, but nodded gratefully for the heads up. I hadn't thought to check the weather before leaving.

The front door opened and Embry emerged with Ephraim lying against his left shoulder, the car seat and diaper bag in his free hand. Ephraim was fighting sleep, his eyes half closed and his tiny hand grasping weakly at the sleeve of Embry's t-shirt. As he was transferred into my arms I felt the warm spike of relief and security that meant I was holding the most importing thing in my world.

Ephraim's dark hair was soft down against my cheek. His scent was all baby, and I thought that as he got older that—the clean, tiny scent of baths in the sink—would be one of the things I would miss the most. His scent and the slow, toothless smiles that he shared as if they were secrets.

Tightening my hold I briefly closed my eyes and wished he would stay small and all mine forever.

"Your truck will be running by the time you get back," Embry said confidently, and I thanked him again for agreeing to take a look at it in the first place. It had been making strange, wailing noises when I drove it to and from the grocery store earlier in the week. He and Leah had used it as an excuse to spend a couple of days at Stregheria, something they did often on the weekends that I didn't borrow one of Vanessa's more baby friendly cars to take to Forks.

"Make sure you don't leave too late," I cautioned. "You have school tomorrow. Both of you."

"Such a mom," Embry teased as he leaned over to grab me in half a hug. His lips brushed the back of Ephraim's head. "Bye, buddy."

As he stepped away, Leah slid in to take his place, gently peeling Ephraim from my shoulder before crouching down to lay him in the car seat. I breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't start crying—he hated the car seat—and as Leah did up all the buckles of the harness, she talked to me in low tones.

"You sure you want to do this, B? No one expects you to. You don't owe th—"

"I want to go," I said quickly. I had woken up this morning _wanting_ to go, and I couldn't come up with a reason why I shouldn't. It would be nice, I told myself. And they had left an open invitation.

"You're nothing if not masochistic," Leah muttered wonderingly. With Ephraim secure in his seat and the shade pulled up, she stood and gazed down at him with a soft expression and relaxed hands. It was as close to adoring as Leah came.

"Thank you," I said earnestly, and she nodded absently.

"Oh," Embry said, "don't forget these." He handed me the diaper bag and the red umbrella that Vanessa always tucked in the front closet.

Unfurling the large canopy, I held it above my head and bent to grasp the handle of Ephraim's car seat. I smiled at Embry and Leah who were standing expectantly a few feet away. "I'll see you guys soon. Have a safe trip back."

"Bye, Bella."

I cast a final look at the driveway where the Rabbit was parked silently beside my rusty old truck. I felt my lips quirk as my eyes slipped closed.

* * *

The soft pelting sound of rain against nylon was the first discernable clue to my success, followed quickly by the temperature drop that was emphasized by a swift up-swirl of wind that batted at my hair. Eyes open, I quickly readjusted the umbrella so that it more effectively shielded Ephraim's seat from the light drizzle.

Then I risked looking up at the stately, red brick house looming before me. A tingling sensation crept along my spine, and I knew I was at the right place. Pride swelled fleetingly inside me at having managed to successfully planesbend across the country with such accuracy. It was the third longest distance I had ever attempted, and even though Vanessa had taught me early on that distance meant nothing next to purpose and concentration, I considered it no small accomplishment and took a moment to enjoy the small thrill that sent my fingers trembling.

But then my nerves were quick to set in, and the shaking moved to my legs as I moved stiltedly up the steps to the front landing and jabbed tentatively at the doorbell. The door was pulled open before the musical intonation was even complete

"Bella."

Esme's surprised smile was a ray of sunshine that soothed away all lingering anxiety. I stood taller under its warmth and didn't feel that my attempt to return the gesture was feeble. "Esme, it's so good to see you."

"It's been too long," she agreed, and began to maternally wave me in out of the rain. "Oh, come in! I'll take your—" Her gaze fell to the Ephraim, who had started dozing off in his seat. She raised a delicate hand to her chest as if her heart had suddenly leapt back to life from its dormant state. "Yes," she whispered, eyes still on the baby, "I'll…I'll take your umbrella for you and put it in the mud room to dry."

Slowly stepping inside, I hesitantly relinquished my damp umbrella to Esme, who received it almost absently as she rotated her body to continue staring at Ephraim in amazement. We stood silently in the entryway for several moments longer than was customary, the distinct sound of water drops rolling off the umbrella and onto the hardwood as an empty, staccato tune. It might have been uncomfortable had I not been able to completely comprehend—and empathize with—the wonder and longing that rooted Esme to her spot.

It took Carlisle's smooth voice to break the spell of our vigil. "Bella, we weren't expecting your visit," he said but looked immensely pleased as he moved toward us from the wide staircase he'd just descended.

Esme blinked and seemed suddenly to remember herself. She raised her eyes reluctantly from the car seat to me and then to Carlisle but mustered a genuine smile. "Yes, we're so happy that you came. I'll just set this out to dry." Clutching the umbrella with renewed purpose, she set off down a hallway to my left.

Carlisle watched her go with gentle understanding. "Esme loves children," he explained. "But she doesn't often get the chance to indulge in spending time with any so young."

I nodded and silently contemplated an existence where having children was impossible and Ephraim didn't exist. It was a painful fantasy.

"May I?" Carlisle gestured to the handle of the car seat, which was growing heavy in my arms.

I relinquished my hold gratefully. "Yes, thank you."

He led us around a wall into an open, modern living room that was done with the same hardwood floors as the hallway but decorated with a couple of light, sophisticated area rugs. I was quickly able to ascertain that this house was not as large as the one they kept in Forks, but it was just as elegant and well-kept.

Esme returned to join us just as Carlisle set Ephraim on the coffee table, and she hovered over his sleeping form almost anxiously, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as if restraining them from reaching forward.

I smiled. "You can take him out if you want."

She looked slightly nervous at her desires having been so easily assumed. "He's sleeping. I really shouldn't."

I sat down on one end of the couch, visibly relinquishing any desire to take him for myself. "If he wakes up, he might cry, but I'm used to it, so as long as you don't mind…"

"No, no," Esme said quickly. "I really don't mind crying. But I don't want to make him cold."

"I have a blanket." I pulled the flannel like material from the diaper bag.

She accepted it but continued to dither uncertainly.

Amused by his wife's behavior, Carlisle smiled and moved to undo the harness's buckles himself.

Esme swatted his hand away. "I've got it."

Chuckling, Carlisle retreated to the couch as well, sitting on the end opposite of me. We both watched Esme work carefully to release the clasps and then lift him slowly from seat so not to startle him awake. She swathed and cradled him expertly in her arms, supporting his head while the majority of his weight rested against her forearms. Eyes round with adoration, Esme eased herself down into Carlisle's side.

"Oh, Bella, he's the most beautiful thing." She smiled as Carlisle used a finger to brush dark lock of hair that was beginning to curl. "He looks just like his father. Except for the ears. Those are yours."

"He's got a lot of Jacob in him," I agreed, my voice tripping almost indiscernibly over his name.

A shiver shot down my spine and all three of us turned toward the front of the house. A beat later there was the distinguished sound of a garage door opening.

Esme sat up a little straighter. "The kids are home from their trip."

My anxiety made an impressive comeback. "Hunting?" I tried to ask casually, and Carlisle nodded.

"They spent the weekend in Vermont."

I quickly tried to gather my composure for the encounter about to occur. I wasn't expecting it to go badly by any means, but it had been nearly a year since I had seen any of them in person, and the prospect of coming face-to-face with Edward always managed to release a rabble of butterflies inside my stomach.

A door opened down the same hallway Esme had disappeared through earlier with my Umbrella. Emmet's carefree voice carried to where we were seated. "Why does it smell like Bella in here?"

Already wound tight with nerves, I laughed sharply. In a flash of speed, Emmet's broad form appeared in the entrance of the living room. His eyes widened when they landed on me. With a loud guffaw and without a moment's warning he swooped down to pick me up, holding me against his body as he spun us in a jubilant circle. I clutched at his shoulders with a yelp.

When he'd set me back on my feet he gave me a look-over from an arm's length away. "You've filled out nicely," he commented in surprise.

"Emmet," Rosalie's and Esme's voices hissed simultaneously.

"What?"

Shaking my head, I waved away their concern. "It's from the pregnancy. I'm still losing baby weight."

"Baby?" His eyebrows crinkled momentarily before shooting up to his hairline. He pointed an accusing finger at my stomach. "You had a baby."

"Emmett, you dolt, you knew that already." Rosalie, who remained standing—a model of perfection—in the hall, scowled at her husband.

"Well, yeah," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I knew that _in theory_ she had one, but I didn't think about her actually _having_ it. I never even got to see her all big and round. Where is he—man! Look at him! What a shrimp." Emmett moved to his mother's side not occupied by Carlisle and peered down in curiosity.

Rosalie looked almost as if she was considering joining the impromptu gathering but ultimately turned on her heel toward the stairs. I sighed but hadn't really expected anything more from her.

Chatter filled the house as the distant door opened once again, but it was caught off as by Alice's high, inquiring voice. "Bella?"

Alice, still dependably small and bright, hastened to my side with a ballerina's grace. She pulled me into a hug with a strength belied her dainty size. I squeezed back, grinning into her shoulder. "Didn't see me coming?" I teased.

"Oh, you think you're so clever." She pulled back far enough to beam at me. I knew that it irritated her that I had eventually faded from her foresight completely, but as long as we talked on the phone regularly she didn't threaten me with impromptu visit—which Vanessa would have been less than fond of.

"And we wouldn't know of anyone else who thinks herself particularly clever," Jasper drew lazily as he entered the room.

"Jasper," I greeted, and he tipped his head in acknowledgment.

"Well, I am known to do some very clever things on occasion," Alice twittered with a raised chin. "You have that fact to thank for your new boots."

"Alice," a familiar, brazen voice began, "obviously is as modest as you left her."

Biting the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning too suddenly and too widely, I turned to see Edward standing by the living room window, several paces away from the rest of us. His hand was resting easily on the frame of a familiar, sleek piano. He was watching me with almost shy eyes as he contemplated my reaction to seeing him after so long.

I moved to join him and laid a warm hand on top of his cold one. His lips turned up into their natural half smile. "Bella, you look beautiful."

I shook my head because I was wearing jeans and a green t-shirt, and my hair needed to be brushed. "Thanks."

"And Ephraim…he's…" Edward's mouth opened, but the words just weren't there. I watched him silently search a hundred years of experience for the right phrase, but finally he just grinned in a small way that echoed realized dreams. "He's everything I could've wanted for you."

I followed his stare to where Ephraim was beginning to stir in Esme's arms. "And I want so much for him now. For us."

I felt his golden eyes on me. "You'll do it, Bella. I know you will."

"I want to. But sometimes I wonder what if—"

He shook his head, frowning. "Don't do that. You can spend all of your time driving yourself mad with 'what if's, but really all that matters is what you have at the end of the day. And you still have _him_."

My eyes shot back to Edward.

His regarded my puzzled expression curiously. "What is it?"

"Nothing. It's just…someone told me that once before." I smiled. "And he was right."

_- fin –_

_

* * *

_

**AN:** I'm not a real big fan of epilogues that just read like extended summaries, so I tried to write this like I would any chapter-minus the meaty plot. Maybe it wasn't what you were hoping for, maybe it was. Let me know. For all of those interested, keep an eye for a Zenith outtake that I'll be posting in about a week or so.

I've noticed from the reviews and PMs that I've been receiving that there seems to be some general confusion about genre or, more specifically, Zenith's genre. Here's the deal...When I pick a genre for a fic here on FFnet I ask myself, "What does this story focus on?" In Zenith, I chose 'romance' and 'mystery,' and I think that's pretty darn accurate. Choosing 'romance' as a genre does not mean I'm signing a contract to fulfill genre "conventions" (whoever gets to decide what those are). A story marked 'romance' does NOT have to deliver a HEA, and I'm not quite sure where that expectation came from. Readers have been complaining that it should have been labeled a tragedy because of the death that occurred. If that's the criteria for choosing a genre, then I guess Zenith should actually be labeled a comedy because there's a heck of a lot more comedic relief than there is tragedy. The actual ending of the story itself isn't even tragic. Bella is not a tragic character. She doesn't let herself become consumed by her grief and live out the rest of her life in misery. She stands on her own and sets out to accomplish something meaningful, still surrounded by people who love her. I don't see a lot of tragic elements in that. If this had been Jacob's story, then, yes, I could see why people would call it a tragedy. But this wasn't Jacob's story, it was Bella's. And I don't think I was ever deceitful about that.

Thank you to everyone who read this far. Your encouragement throughout has been invaluable, and I hope you thought the journey was worth it. :)

I've recently posted my Jasper/Bella oneshot called "Shoot the Sky." Check it out if that's your flavor. If not, I hope to see some of you again when I start posting my Jacob/Bella/Embry story over winter break. It recently went through a title change and is now called "For I am Captured Straight to You." Very different from Zenith and not nearly as long, but I've had a blast writing it and can't wait to share.

Again, thank you all.


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